


Safe in the Garden

by Bijouu



Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Background Relationships, Blood and Injury, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Panic Attacks, Platonic Relationships, Quests
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 68,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25005415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bijouu/pseuds/Bijouu
Summary: Fantasy, coming of age, adventure and journey. Tags to be updated as fic updates.A plot driven by Soobin, destiny-to-fulfill type of story that explores OT5's trust as they unveil a hidden and failed prophecy from years and years ago. Arcane Soobin, Wind-harnessing Yeonjun, exalted witch Beomgyu, Odd-eyed sorcerer Taehyun, and a supposed fairy Hueningkai.
Relationships: Choi Beomgyu/Kang Taehyun, Choi Soobin/Choi Yeonjun, Choi Soobin/Huening Kai, Choi Yeonjun/Huening Kai
Comments: 34
Kudos: 70





	1. Introduction + Soobin

**Author's Note:**

> This is @soobimoroll on twitter. Maps have been posted to assist in visualization of this low-to-high fantasy based story and can be found in my pinned tweet. This fic will be including bangtan cameos that are assistants to the plot and not main characters, which is why they aren't tagged. Thank you for coming to my first ever txt fic! I'll be editing this from time to time to make sure all tw are accounted for.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: blood and injury

The fertile land in the region known as Evenfaun originated from a star that fell into a frozen lake. The power that blessed the land was said to have been unharnessable by the merfolk, and too daunting for even the enchanted fae folk. The oldest dragons couldn’t yet speak their language, at least not until the most recent millennium, and even so - the energy there didn’t yet have a body to be expressed in. When the tall trees, boosted by the energy of the lake’s star, grew its first human, even the most curious creatures came to look. At first, the star fragments were growing more accustomed to their mortal bodies, and their leader communicated directly to the sky. They sang of their loneliness until the land split into more and more life. The purity of the land had been the beginning to every story, and the original inhabitants of the surrounding land couldn’t keep their eyes off.

The people of the wind, with lightning in their cores and forms not so physical but not non-existent, were mystified. On their perches, on mountaintops, they watched the magical humans cultivate and dig deep into the earth, kissing it with thanks and with promises. By the time Evenfaun had its official forty-ninth pair of rulers, a duo of queens, the windy nation of Elysia had celebrated their five-thousandth pair of sibling rulers.

To Evenfaun’s west, across a temperamental river of nymphs, hid the fae in the thickest woods. They collected gossip from the river, and in their hidden forests and nests of gold, the oldest fae ran deeper into the woods, further west until the trees pulled away into a sunlit glade. There, halting at a shrine so magnificent, the guardian on its steps reached for the original fae’s cheeks. Tenderly, he smoothed the pad of his thumb across the original fae’s freckles. “Be patient. They aren’t a threat to us.”

Evenfaun was fortunate enough to be surrounded on its south and south-east with sweet ocean, to which the merfolk and inhabitants of Chatoya curiously left gifts upon the sandy shores. It seemed as if no matter how grumpy the current ruler of the sea was, he protected even the rocky eastern coast from ocean storms and floods. From a distance on their multitude of islands, Chatoya watched comfortably and quietly. From Elysia to the fae’s Avianna and its secret meadow, the humans were precious, harmless. They came from a fallen star- they were untouchable and secretive. 

When the universe blessed the queens of Evenfaun with an arcane son, the nations immediately wanted to take a peek. Never before had such a power been felt since the fall of the first star, and thinking that the fragments had finally fused again, no Elysian, Aviannan, or Chatoyan ruler could stay silent for that long. 

In one cheek, the son was kissed by time for endless wisdom and leadership, and in another kissed by the stars for humility and empathy spanning a thousand years. The queens welcomed Soobin as proudly as possible, and soon, the nations came out of hiding.

Soobin at twelve met Elysians for the first time.

“Nervous, Soobinie?” one of the queens cooed, fixing his bangs away from his face. He chewed on his lip, nodding twice before she bubbled into laughter. “Will you be a kind boy and keep the other young prince as good company?” 

As shy as young Soobin was, in his long sleeves and dressed up so prettily in a flower headpiece, pinky-promised to be a good host for the Elysians. The entrance for them was so grand that Soobin couldn’t focus on any singular thing until he was bowing to the Elysian prince. It made his entire posture straighten intensely when the other prince stared at him with sharp eyes. 

“You must be the new prince,” the Elysian bluntly observed. 

“Oh, I’m not _new_ , I’m twelve-”

“No one has bowed to me before,” the Elysian interjected, glancing at the king and two queens, conversing lightly on the side. “You don’t have to do that.” 

When he looked back at Soobin, the other straightened himself up, afraid that he’d done something to offend the Elysian though there was no malice to the other’s expression, despite the slight pout to the other’s lips. “I see,” Soobin answered, trying not to stare at the floor in embarrassment. The floor underneath was so shiny that Soobin could almost see his flushed face in the reflection. “Um,” he hummed, watching as their parents and advisors dismissed themselves down the hallway. “Can I show you my garden?” 

The silence was awkward- as awkward as two almost-teenagers could be. Yeonjun, the Elysian, was a tough person to entertain. It seemed like small talk didn’t reach the other’s interest, no matter how hard Soobin tried. He thought that he must look so under prepared for receiving Elysians into their home. Only knowing about Evenfaun, Soobin didn’t have much insight at all about the lands surrounding them. He’d only gone to the southern coast once or twice in his life, just to dig his toes into the sand and play in the salty water. Generally, Soobin was too busy practicing and learning to be a true leader in the core of Evenfaun to have spent his days wandering.

At least Yeonjun, Soobin thought, watching as the other reached out to touch each and every plant that they passed by, was equally new to this.

“I planted tomatoes and they’re so red now,” Soobin commented. They’d walked by all the fruit trees in near-silence, aside from a curious hum or two from Yeonjun. Soobin had urged him to taste some fruit on their way through, each of them holding baskets in the crook of their elbows to carry a whole harvest. Having crossed a small bridge over the irrigation canal and toward the vegetables, it was safe to say that their arms were sore but stomachs near full. “But they- oh no!” Soobin cringed, watching as Yeonjun bit into the tomato, watching as the other’s face scrunched up in disgust. “They don’t- you shouldn’t eat them alone,” Soobin explained, wincing when the other found it in himself to swallow down his bite. “You could have spat it out…”

The other prince held onto his wrist, shaking his head like it was no problem, even if he was smacking his lips together to no doubt drag away the weird taste. “It- It’s okay. Thank you,” Yeonjun reassured, equally awkward and embarrassed, yet still holding the bitten tomato in his other hand. “But I don’t think I can finish this.”

Soobin hesitantly laughed once, twice, and took the fruit from Yeonjun’s hand. “Let’s return it to the land,” he suggested, popping down into a squat and gesturing for Yeonjun to join him. When Yeonjun came down to Soobin’s level, he used his knee to shove their baskets aside and make space, and Soobin made sure to absolutely ignore the red of Yeonjun’s ears. “Here we say, bless your decay,” Soobin explained, setting the fruit onto the soil by the tomato vines. “And that’s how the land knows we’re thankful.”

Soobin clasped his hands together once, smiling when Yeonjun tentatively followed suit. Once the blessing was done, the two dragged their baskets to a nearby garden faucet, scrubbing their sticky hands under the spray.

“Want me to dry your hands?” Yeonjun asked, pointing at Soobin’s still-dripping fingers. 

“Oh what? Do you have a cloth?” 

“Cloth?” Yeonjun tilted his head. He scrunched his nose up like the mere thought of using any fabric to wipe their hands was gross. “No, just hold them out.”

Soobin followed directions, jaw slackening when the other rotated his hands around Soobin’s. The water practically detached from Soobin’s skin and fell instead onto the soil below. “Oh. Wow,” Soobin lamely croaked, imitating the movement with his own hands. “How do you do that?”

“Elysia runs on wind and air,” Yeonjun explained, dusting his knees, though he looked pleased enough by Soobin’s amazement. “And we protect non-mountains with it. We just do it. Mess with wind like that.”

Soobin accepted Yeonjun’s outstretched hand to pull himself up, trying to hide his amazement behind by turning to feel some of the leaves on the nearby vines. Maybe Yeonjun could make for good company like how his mothers had said. Obviously, Soobin had a lot to learn. “I haven’t figured out how to do that yet.”

“Well you’re a human, so you might never.”

Soobin’s eyebrows rose, completely new to experiencing supposed arrogance like that before. He felt it in the way his shoulders stiffened, almost like he was ashamed to admit that it might be true. 

“But my dad says you have a lot of magic. Star magic. So… maybe,” Yeonjun quickly added.

Soobin realized then- Yeonjun didn’t have any real ill intentions. He was just awkward, as awkward as Soobin was. Even if the other left the introverted prince at a loss for words, there was no harm done and Yeonjun was quick to realize the weight of his own words. The two kids left it at that, dragging their baskets back inside.

Later that night, the queens invited Soobin into the front room of their personal floor. “I saw little prince Yeonjun carry a basket of goods to their room,” one of his mothers smiled, brushing her thin fingers through Soobin’s silky black hair. “You shared your garden with him?” She asked.

Soobin, drowsy from playing chase with Yeonjun earlier and sneaking through the library with him too, nodded his head. From his place on his mother’s shoulder, it was too comfortable to not start dozing off. “He bit a tomato,” Soobin mumbled into the fabric of her sleeve. 

“I suppose he didn’t like it?” The other queen giggled, sweeping her long hair away from her shoulders. When Soobin shook his head even more, the queens shared a knowing laugh. “Thank you for being so kind to him. Sleep, and tomorrow you can have more fun.”

Soobin didn’t have to be told twice. The second his sluggish feet had made it to bed, the enchanted candles in his room immediately burnt out.   
  


Things were easier when they were young. Soobin and Yeonjun in the summer would find themselves at the once-frozen lake. On the glimmering shores, the sand sparkled like it was filled with the cosmos, and the lake itself gleamed so bright that it was indistinguishable to the clear, blue sky. Soobin and Yeonjun had their pants all the way up to their knees, wading through the warm water. 

“My home is hidden behind a waterfall,” Yeonjun commented, trying not to be so blinded when the sun’s bright light reflected off the water’s surface.

“I’ve never seen a waterfall,” Soobin confessed. “I’m not allowed to leave here yet. I’m too young.”

“Oh. Elysia is cooler. When you’re older, I’ll invite you,” Yeonjun shrugged, unbothered with the confession.

Soobin figured that was maybe why the two of them, no matter how different from each other, got along as well as they did. Yeonjun didn’t make fun of Soobin for not really knowing things past his home. They were close enough in age that Yeonjun didn’t scold Soobin for splashing him with water. Instead, he kicked water right back at Soobin and chased him around until the two fell under the protective shade of a mighty tree. There, clutching their stomachs and writhing in laughter at each other’s dumb, soaked self, it was so easy.

“You’re gonna dry us off, right?” Soobin asked, once their giggled tapered off into stinging cheeks and wiped-away, happy tears.

“Mmm… I can dry myself. You have to do something cool to earn it,” Yeonjun mischievously grinned, leaning onto the thick root between them. “C’mon, I want to see what you can do!” 

Soobin, who was slumped against the tree trunk, sheepishly shrugged. “Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t,” he sighed, playing with his soggy sleeves. “I’m not really good at it right now. I do a lot of focus training with my teacher.” 

“You do training too?” Yeonjun asked, eyebrows shooting up. “I guess, I do a lot of training too. Out of students, guess who has been ranked one in Elysia?”

Soobin laughed through his nose, crossing his arms over his chest. “It has to be you, right?” 

“You got it,” Yeonjun smiled. 

Since their few weeks together, spending the time playing from dawn until the sun set far, far away, Soobin came to know a little more about Yeonjun’s bluntness and mannerisms. It wasn’t like the other meant to gloat. He was just proud, and for that, Soobin offered the older a little applause. “Wow. Good job on your- grades?” The thought of being graded against anyone else on magical ability, at least for Soobin, seemed so scary and counter-productive. He pushed himself up, watching when Yeonjun played with the itty bitty blades of grass on the floor, shrugging at the praise, yet unable to hide the pink of his cheeks.

“So will you show me your magic or what?” Yeonjun pressed, eyes wide and searching, though not at all disrespectful.

Soobin crowded in closer, over the root of the tree. “I can show you something, but it won’t actually do anything, so don’t expect too much,” he warned, laying his slender fingers on the sturdy root. Once he was satisfied with the cross that Yeonjun made over his heart, he took a deep breath and exhaled. 

At once it seemed that a fine teal smoke rose from under Soobin’s palms, dispersing like spores and attaching to the nearest surface. There, they began to blink, twinkling in their little particles and pulsing like a rhythm. “When I do this, I can feel it like it's breathing. I can almost hear it buzzing.” 

“Kinda looks like snot.”

“Ah- No way!” 

  
  
  


At the time, Soobin was grateful that Yeonjun didn’t react like he was enamoured with the life-pulse. The aura and magic that Soobin had was different from the brilliant pink and orange that the rest of the kingdom seemed to harness. For that reason, as far as Soobin knew, his abilities were a rarity.

When the light fizzled away and Yeonjun helped Soobin up, the tension in his shoulders had become non-existent. “Wanna get snacks?” Soobin asked with a cheeky grin, holding his arms out when Yeonjun laughed from his belly and moved his palms around to dry the water from their clothes. 

Yeonjun grinned, huffing through his nose like Soobin was just _something else_. “Yeah, I’m starving.”

  
  


Things were so much easier when they were kids. The summer days spent between them, without responsibilities or fears, and taking naps under a large shield of apple trees, was so dream-like. For Soobin, to finally be in the company of someone his age, who didn’t flinch away at his title, who pushed and pulled and played in the water and dirt with him- Yes. Soobin’s first ever friend was an Elysian. By the time it was due for Yeonjun to leave, Soobin’s heart prematurely ached in loneliness.

“I’ll come back and play,” Yeonjun sheepishly promised, watching Soobin bite down on his dangerously wobbly lip.

“Okay,” Soobin nodded, eyebrows scrunched together to save face, though all it did was add to his pout. He kept his tears in tight as the Elysians’ belongings were being gathered. “And safe travels too,” he called out, voice wobbly.

It was unmistakable that his new friend’s eyes were getting misty too.

As the other picked up the last of his luggage, he shot a smile Soobin’s way and waved. “Keep yourself dry!” 

Soobin snorted a laugh through some tears when Yeonjun finally turned to leave. Unable to watch the actual departure, Soobin found himself in the kitchen, making a noise of surprise to find his tutor and also his parents’ advisor, already looking for snacks.

“Ah, I’ve been caught,” the older male smiled, dimples deepening in embarrassment. “Want to share, Soobin?” 

Soobin, who was still scrubbing his eyes from leftover tears, nodded his head and dragged himself up onto a seat at the counter. “I’m sorry,” he apologized pitifully, stealing a kitchen rag to wipe his face with.

“Mm? For what?” His teacher asked, setting half of a sweet bread onto a napkin in front of Soobin. “For crying?” 

Soobin nodded, picking up the bread, but not bringing his gaze up any further than that. 

His teacher, Namjoon, had taken on an almost brotherly figure to Soobin, despite the age gap and their lack of actual shared blood. As far as Soobin knew, Namjoon was a person who had lived forever and was the wisest person to exist. 

Namjoon fondly huffed through his nose, scratching his dull nails gently on Soobin’s scalp. “Crying is natural. No one will get mad at you or tease you for feeling emotions,” he reassured, pulling back the other’s bangs so the kid wouldn't have something to hide behind. “Are you good-sad or sad-sad?”

“Sad-sad,” Soobin answered honestly, taking a bite out of the sweet bread. “I made a friend and he had to leave.”

“Ahh,” Namjoon hummed, ruffling the kid’s fringe before awkwardly letting it go. “I’m glad you became friends with the little heir. That’s called proper diplomacy. Doesn’t that seem right?”

Soobin, being as young as he was, hadn’t really considered the business or diplomatic aspect of the Elysian’s visit at all. He wriggled his nose, the thing a bit runny from having to say goodbye to his first-and-only like-aged friend. “We had fun playing,” Soobin nodded, eyes down onto the counter.

“Elysians… Are very different from us. I hope you maintain this friendship for us. Okay Soobin-ah?”

Not really knowing the weight of Namjoon’s words but always eager to trust him, Soobin merely nodded and finished his snack. When Namjoon insisted that they finish the night with a lesson, Soobin hardly even argued. WIth Yeonjun gone, Soobin would become too lonely if he accidentally became bored over the time in between.

What was nice was that although Elysia’s kingdom was reigning high in the mountains to the northwest of Evenfaun, the nation’s windy capacities brought letters in and out of Soobin’s home. After lessons- learning about history, arcane magic and spells, seals, and learning to be someone with a strong moral conscience- Soobin would wait in the front room for the gifts and letters to be delivered.

At fourteen, Soobin and Yeonjun’s letter trades were so well established that they had yet to miss a day. It was practically their schedule, and Soobin became childishly excited each time, much to his parents’ pleasure. 

This time, the colorful and folded paper ran around the air, zipping past Soobin’s head and twirled to rest on his shoulder. The folds were so crisp and the sparkling purple cardstock- enchanted into the shape of a winged puma- were incredibly creative and distinct. It had to have been that day’s letter from Yeonjun. 

_“Hey Soobin!_

_Have you heard from your parents? We’ll be journeying to visit. We might bring a windmill for you guys too. Isn’t that great? I feel like it’s been so long since we got to hang out. I’ve been practicing a lot and have so much to show you. Don’t worry about sending a letter back, I’m probably already travelling anyways. Hyung will find you something cool on the way as a present._

_Yeonjun.”_

Soobin folded the edges of the letter back into its winged puma shape, hurrying to his study room to display it on his desk, being careful to not disturb the various crystals and charms suspended in the room. “Mom!” He called, sticking his head out the doorway to see if either one of them were nearby. “Mom?” 

A little hand appeared at the end of the hallway. The magical pink projection pointing into one of the many rooms. He recognized the pretty rings on the fingers as his mom’s, jogging after the projection to where it ended at the entrance to his mother’s work room. Once there, the hand caressed Soobin’s cheek and fizzled into nothing.

When Soobin pushed the door open, he was greeted with his mom in her work apron. The cloth, originally a stunning white, was splattered with a million and one flowers and colors. It seemed like a dying plant was the subject of her current work. “Soobinnie, bring mama that glass of water please,” she smiled, readjusting how her hair was tied up.

Dutifully, Soobin hurried and brought her the cold drink. Even as exhausted as she appeared to be, his mom grinned as brightly as the sun. “What’s on your mind? I have a feeling that it has something to do with the letters that just came in.” 

A master of magic in her own right, Soobin had never really been surprised at her shining intuitions. Whereas this mom was constantly learning more about magic and encouraged Soobin to explore his own, his other mom was a true negotiator and more analytical. The Queens had that reputation as the rulers who assisted in Evenfaun’s amazing resource management and citizen prosperity. The royals themselves didn’t even live so glamorously. 

“The Elysians are visiting again?” Soobin asked, toying with a glass bowl on the desk. Its contents swirled in pastel colors, in contrast to the black and purple of the plant that his mom was messing around with.

“Yes. We’re discussing using wind as a resource in the valley,” She smiled, propping her elbow up on the desk. “As you know, it’s been quite amicable, so don’t be nervous.” 

Nervous? Why would Soobin be nervous about anything? It was perfect timing for the Elysians to visit, in Soobin’s eyes. With the summer closing out soon enough, the evenings were perfect and cool. Some nights, Soobin would stay up late just to watch the stars drift so prettily across the sky. “I’m not that nervous. I’ve been waiting for them to come back.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” The queen sighed through her nose. “When you get to my age, there’s only boring talks and papers to sign, not playing in lakes and sneaking out past midnight to go stargazing.” 

Soobin flushed up to his ears at the callout, shrugging almost sheepishly. “I won’t be up late when they’re here.” 

“Is that a promise?” she asked, laughing when Soobin started shuffling himself out of the door.  
  


Why was his heart racing so badly? It was his job to welcome the Elysians, and the image was similar to the last time. This time, a year and a half later than their first meeting, Soobin didn’t stand so shyly behin his mothers. As with the reception, Soobin was once again dressed in the patterns of his people. Their crowns, woven and enchanted, perched proudly on their heads. Soobin, however, found it to be quite stuffy despite the pride. Behind his back, Soobin picked at the skin by his fingernails. Afraid to look Yeonjun in the eyes, Soobin waited for the formalities to pass before actually addressing him.

Just like before, the princes, left alone in the hallway, regard each other- but more fondly than before. “You got taller,” Yeonjun noted, cheekily shrugging. “But not taller than me.”

“You shouldn’t be so sure.” Soobin warned, smiling nonetheless. They skipped the greeting hug, instead marching outside as if it was something they did every day. “Yeonjun hyung, I like how you sent your letters,” Soobin commented, handing a watering bucket to the other.”The folds looked so… so sharp.”

Yeonjun shuffled the thing in his hand, supporting the spout with the other. He seemed puzzled with the contraption entirely. “We fold paper like that for celebrations in Elysia,” Yeonjun explained. “During the holidays, they’re practically flying everywhere. We even have shows.” 

Soobin stood with his own watering can, nodding. “We make paper lanterns during our… um, do you need help holding that?”

Yeonjun was cradling his watering can in both arms. To save Yeonjun’s pride, he pressed his lips tightly together, but still, the prince couldn’t help but laugh when Yeonjun poured a bit of water onto himself. “Yah, why do you need such big teapots?” Yeonjun asked, turning red in the ears.

“Wha- teapots? No, we’re just watering flowers,” Soobin laughed, pitching forward in a half-wheeze at Yeonjun stubbornly setting the damn thing on the floor.

“Is that codeword for pissing on-”

“No!”

It took a while, for them and their ridiculously awkward laughter to fizzle away, thought the red high on their cheeks stayed, resilient as a reminder. “For the sensitive plants, we water them by hand instead of using irrigation. So I come out to water them when I can,” Soobin explained, leading Yeonjun around a near-maze of bushes. “Or else the petals might just… fall off.” 

Yeonjun curiously peeked a t the different plants, felt the velvet of flower petals on his calves as they walked. “We’re doing your chores,” he mumbled, distractedly walking on the pretty stepstones.

Soobin shrugged. “Yeah, but… I guess, yeah,” he failed to argue, swinging open a small wooden gate. It hardly came up past their hips, but Soobin gently clicked it closed behind them anyways. If the two of them wanted to, they could have just hurdled it.

“How many plants do you watch after?” Yeonjun asked, crouching beside a long, symmetrical set of rows filled with pansies. “Evenfaun plants look so fragile.” The crease in Yeonjun’s brow deepened when he reached out to touch, and Soobin looked at him, equally perplexed. 

“These? I don’t think I considered them fragile, really,” he trailed, watering the flowers with his watering can. “What are plants like in Elysia?”

Yeonjun copied Soobin, being extra gentle as they made their way down the rows. “More trees than shrubs,” Yeonjun answered with a frown. “We bring the rain to water them. It’s not that colorful in Elysia, beside the sky. We use a lot of stone.”

“I don’t know if the plants would enjoy a different climate, but I can send you home with bulbs to plant,” Soobin casually offered. Something about the way that Yeonjun’s eyes widened had pride pulling Soobin’s chest up and up. 

“But I’ve never planted anything.”

“I can teach you. It isn’t that hard,” Soobin smiled, a little shy, a little too-much enjoying the positive reaction from Yeonjun. The other simply turned back to watering, satisfied with the answer, just as Soobin was.

At the very last row, after the two paused to take a break under one of the trees again, Soobin ditched his watering can in favor of running to a swing set at the edge of the property. “My arms are so sore,” he complained, lazily pushing himself as Yeonjun sat on the nearby bench. 

“You want me to push you?” Yeonjun asked, through it was fairly obvious from his slouched position that he was just as tired. Soobin had been grateful that the other had even bothered to help Soobin with his ‘chores’ and do so in a magic-less way. 

“Oh, the Elysian knows what a swing is?” Soobin cockily laughed, swinging his legs freely. “Not too mundane or- woah!” The prince scrambled to grab the ropes, feeling a gust of air hurry past his ears, the force of it sending him swinging up incredibly high. 

Yeonjun bent over cackling on his bench, hitting the iron arm rests with his arms. “Ha! You should’ve seen your face!” he wheezes, gripping his abdomen. “Oh, my sides!” 

Soobin didn’t have time to pout, the height of the swing tickling his stomach as it went forward and backward. He kicked out his dangling legs, laughing even more when the swing excitedly twisted back and forth. “I could’ve fallen!” Soobin scolded, by the time the swing evened out and he could dig his toes into the dirt to stop himself. “Are you trying to get us into trouble or what?”

“You wouldn’t have gotten hurt,” Yeonjun snorted, waving a hand to push Soobin’s swing again, gently this time. “I wouldn’t let you actually get hurt or anything.” 

Endeared and obviously pleased with the other’s answer, Soobin kept his feet up as the other swayed along for fun.”We’ll have to go back inside soon,” Soobin commented, catching the quick downturn of Yeonjun’s lips. “Is everything alright?” 

Yeonjun opened his mouth and closed it again with a shrug. “Being a prince is hard, but being here is… easier.” 

The expression, vague and unsettling, had Soobin frowning as well. He looked past the garden fence instead, deep into the dark Starfall Woods that seemed to glimmer despite its shadows. “I get what you mean,” Soobin replied after some time. 

It couldn’t have been his imagination, seeing relief and understanding on Yeonjun’s face. To Soobin, it was somber, the wavelength that they shared.

The sun was already setting in the west, and Soobin and Yeonjun enjoyed the evening silence. The sky, pink and orange, had already set shadows from the trees and fences onto their rows of flowers by the time they spoke again. 

“Have you ever snuck out?” Yeonjun questioned, obviously teasing and eyeing Soobin’s pink ears.

“I so have,” Soobin retorted. “Just by myself, mostly.” 

“I guess I’ll have to keep you company.”

  
  


During dinner, the back of Soobin’s neck had begun to sweat. It wasn’t like his parents didn’t know about his usual midnight garden-escapes, but rather that he _knew_ that he wouldn’t be scolded for stargazing. It was Yeonjun that Soobin was scared about. 

Across the table, the Elysians dripped proper attitude. He wondered if the King had an issue with how he practically dragged Yeonjun to play in the lake water and garden soil. They, who sat with their backs so straight that they didn’t touch the support of the chairs, and Soobin, who didn’t know whether or not he should be crossing his ankles beneath the table or something, made for an interesting scene. 

Soobin’s collar felt a little too itchy.

The moon was brilliant. Soobin remembered that the most. 

Its silver light lit up the hallways and fed Soobin’s paranoia of being caught. But there, by the base of the large stairs, sat Yeonjun, waiting. They didn’t hesitate, grabbing each others’ hands as they snuck out to the garden. Wherever they stepped, feet clicking softly on gray stone, seemed to almost drag along a little wind at their ankles. Even the leaves felt like they twinkled as they ran deep, past the orchard, past the vegetables, to their secret, not-so-secret swing. 

Soobin’s hands were sweaty, the both of them heaving big breaths and looking at each other like they’d done something forbidden. Leave two teenagers to be rebellious, and it was no surprise when they fell into easy laughs, communicating the same thoughts: Did we really just do that?

“Can I stick my head under the garden faucet?”

“That’s kinda gross,” Soobin panted, yielding when Yeonjun’s apathetic gaze met his own. “Go for it.”

As Yeonjun knelt to gulp some water down, Soobin tucked his shirt into his pants. It was his nightshirt and he didn’t want to dirty it by playing in the garden. “Did we have to run that fast?” Yeonjun asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Soobin cheekily grinned. “Nope,” he said frankly, his tongue sticking out between his teeth at Yeonjun’s exaggerated, fake grimace. 

“Hey, if there’s no rush, we could’ve just walked like regular people.”

“Regular people?” Soobin snorted. “Maybe I could have. But I heard from the river nymphs who heard from forest sprites who said some owls saw an Elysian turn invisible once.” 

Yeonjun scratched at the back of his neck when Soobin cocked an eyebrow curiously at him. “Yeah well river nymphs are tricksters and liars. Once, one of them put a frog in my shoe and laughed so hard the shore nearly receded.” 

“Yeah, I should’ve guessed,” Soobin sighed in defeat, taking a seat on the bench to cuff his pants at the ankles. “It’s too cool for even an Elysian to do.”

Yeonjun spluttered a little, putting his hands on his hips. “When did Soobin become so brave? I didn’t lie, did I?” 

“No, but you aren’t telling the truth either,” Soobin countered easily. He kicked a little at the dirt beneath him. “I want to learn more.” The words unspoken hung in the air.

_I learn so much from you already. You’re all I have to know about the rest of the world._

Yeonjun had started to shuffle on his feet, seemingly uncomfortable in his own shoes. “Okay, fine. But it’s not invisible either. When you showed me your green magic, you said you didn’t actually _do_ anything, right? I’ll do that for you. To make it even then.” 

Soobin eagerly nodded, genuinely surprised that his teasing had managed to get Yeonjun to cave. The curiosity twinkled perfectly in his eyes as he sat on the bench and watched. “Okay, yeah. That’s fine.”

“It’s just a form change. They tell us in school that humans can’t do it, so… Don’t try too hard to do the impossible either.” Yeonjun rolled up his sleeves, pointedly looking at Soobin, like he was teaching him a solid life lesson. “Elysians _are_ wind. I can see other Elysians but if you went to Elysia on your own, it’d look like such a ghost town. You’re not gonna get scared right? If I show you?”

“What, for becoming wind?” Soobin questioned, genuinely confused. What would be so scary? This was still his friend, Yeonjun.

Yeonjun merely shrugged and made some space for himself.

Soobin felt something itching in his mind- or maybe that was really his chest? From the moment that Yeonjun’s frame started to dissolve into nothing, like the apparition hand that his mother has been able to craft from her aura, and watching Yeonjun turn into nothing but dust on the floor- Soobin knew. He admired the other prince greatly.

It was as if Soobin were blinking, looking into empty space, but he felt Yeonjun somewhere near, maybe even all around him. “Yeonjun-hyung?” Soobin warily called out, unsettled by the fact that Yeonjun could disappear so easily. Just as quickly as his anxiety had arisen, it disappeared, settled by the calm breeze that pushed back Soobin’s hair from his eyes.

“Don’t be afraid,” a voice whispered, ruffling Soobin’s hair on purpose now. The petals of the peonies rustled by Soobin’s ankles. “I’m in front of you.”

Soobin squinted and rubbed his eyes. He could feel the other closely, hear the inhales and exhales as if they were by his ear, but he knew that Yeonjun wasn’t actually that close. Just like before, when they were younger and curious, Soobin held out his palm and exhaled. 

The blue-green mist sparkled, just as brilliantly as before. The little bits like fireflies, fluttered about in a pulse, and as if engaged by a catalyst, quickly sucked itself back toward Soobin’s palm.

Like a ripple in a pond, the magic pulsed. From Soobin’s palm was Yeonjun’s cheek, transparent and swaying in green-purple iridescence, just as most of Yeonjun’s body was revealed. The older’s eyes seemed to crackle with lightning, as if sparks were shooting out to the sides every time that Yeonjun blinked. Soobin gasped, frozen with his palm on the other’s warm cheek. Yes, that was a near ghostly Yeonjun, eyes wide and mouth half-hanging open.

“How are you doing this?” Yeonjun’s breathless voice seemed to float and hang in the air, traveling from one of Soobin’s ears to the other. His eyes were wide, scanning all over Soobin’s face. 

“I felt like I heard your voice echoing,” Soobin answered. As much as he’d sensed the other, he could hear Yeonjun shuffling around, like a whisper in the wind. Carefully, Soobin pulled his hand away from Yeonjun’s cheek. Just as he had appeared, Yeonjun dissolved into fine mist again.

“Even like this?” Yeonjun asked. “Can you come find me? I’ve never heard of anyone being able to reveal Elysians before.”

Soobin blinked in the darkness, hearing as Yeonjun’s voice echoed away, no longer in front of him. “Watch my flowers,” Soobin warned, biting the inside of his cheek. “But… I think I can.”

“Okay. Come find me.”

This feeling was so unique for Soobin. The night was silent, save for the far distant, coastal wind, yet Soobin could hear Yeonjun in something as simple as the rustling of some leaves. It was better when Soobin closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, his feet took hesitant steps on the garden stone, careful around the plots of pansies. 

“Don’t do that,” Soobin seriously warned again when he reached out into the air and grabbed around nothing. Yeonjun came into view again, the same sparkling blue and purple and green iridescence. He was half over the fence, surprised to have been caught in the first place. “We can’t go past the fence. It’s there for a reason.”

“The field is a part of your land,” the spirit-like Yeonjun countered quietly. “We can put our feet in this grass and not go all the way to the sea.”

“The fence stops there for a reason,” Soobin frowned, keeping his hand on the other’s forearm, just to see him. Even if he was somewhat transparent, it was enough that Soobin could read the other’s expression. “I don’t know anything past this fence.”

“The fence is tiny, and this is your land. You should know what’s out there.”

Yeonjun is right.

This place is Soobin’s to care for. He should know what’s out there. He should know about the Starfall woods and the field that goes to the sea. Before Soobin even had the chance to feel ashamed, Yeonjun took his hand properly. “Don’t be afraid. We don’t actually have to go over the fence. If you want to stay here, or stay in the garden, we can. We can just stay.”

Soobin considered it. He thought about what it was like, to be on the swing set and be looking so far out past the fence, wondering what the beaches to the sea must look like and how untouched the field and sand must be. The wild grass and the tiniest white flowers, all overgrown and pure as they were, why had Soobin not questioned what it was like past the fence? It wasn’t until Yeonjun came that he began to question why he was stuck like this. Stuck here. “But I should know,” was all that Soobin managed to say.

Yeonjun seemed so sincere though, turning his palm nicely into Soobin’s hand. “I shouldn’t have said that,” he said. Soobin acknowledged the hidden message behind the words. Yeonjun shouldn’t have said that, but it didn’t make it any less true. Yeonjun’s image stutters, ripples again from where he’s touching Soobin’s hand. 

“No, I want to know,” Soobin’s eyebrows scrunched as he thought. “Really, I want to know.”

They stood like that, with Yeonjun already having one foot on the other side of the fence. Soobin hadn’t been the type to disobey rules really. It was almost in his nature to be a quite lawful and rule-following kid. Even into his teenage years, the worst Soobin had done was stay up late to watch the stars. Technically, going past the fence wasn’t even a rule that his mothers had said to him.

But Yeonjun was here with him now. And that was just a field that bordered the sea, and the mysterious forest, and Soobin’s flower garden.

Yeonjun seemed a bit apprehensive, apologetic even. The blue-purple-greens began to fade away, and Yeonjun properly appeared, fully opaque. “Okay. We don’t have to go all the way to the sea.”

Soobin nodded.

Yeonjun stretched his other leg over the short fence, and when he properly stood on that side, Soobin joined.

The wild grass was tall and soft. Soobin thought about what it might have felt like, to have a nap and be protected by the long blades of grass here. The little flowers, scattered and somewhat fragrant, weren’t something that Soobin was used to seeing. He and Yeonjun had become silent. It was a little chilly out, probably became so the more that they walked, hand in hand, to the east. Soobin knew that there was an ocean over there, that the water hid the many forms of Chatoyans, and that Chatoya itself would be just an image in the distance. The air became saltier as the night dragged on.

“It’s just… grass,” Soobin mumbled, stepping through the field anticlimactically, though his heart was making laps in his throat and down to his stomach. If it were so empty, why did he feel as uneasy as he did?

“This wind is a little different. This far east, it stops being Elysian,” Yeonjun added.

“It’s supposed to be Chatoyan.”

“Good. That’s a blessing,” Yeonjun smiled softly. “They’re the second best defenders. Elysia coming first, naturally.”

Blame it on Soobin’s naivety. He heard the stories of the most powerful players on this planet, the nation of wind and the multicolored shores of the oceanic Chatoya as well. “What’s there even to protect from?” Soobin asked once the two of them had begun to head back. “Nothing ever happens around here.”

“What?” Yeonjun frowned at him, genuinely concerned. Soobin wanted to cringe, for saying something that took the little smile off of Yeonjun’s face. “There are beasts in this world. Monstrous giants and vengeful spirits and dragons, Soobin. You can’t be that sheltered, right?”

Soobin looked at Yeonjun incredulously still, sitting in his ignorance and a little bit of shame, for having been told something that _he_ was certain was long, long gone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Those are just history, right?”

The way that Yeonjun looked at him, with cold and sharp eyes, made Soobin want to stop talking entirely.

“You don’t have a skyward vantage point like I do, like all of Elysia does,” Yeonjun steeled his jaw. He held more firmly to Soobin’s hand, carefree nature now replaced with curtness. “I get that you… You want to learn, right? Who has been telling you all of this? You’re just learning lies.”

“Even if they are lies, how was I supposed to know?” Soobin frowned, tugging his hand free from the other’s grip. “I’m sorry that I didn’t know.”

“Don’t apologize for not knowing. But it sounds like you have to do some exploring of your own. This place must be paradise, and it is because it’s blessed by a star. But the world is so much different out there, way more than you know. You have to be ambitious and learn those things for yourself and not be fed information and believe one person’s words are always right.”

Soobin fixed Yeonjun with a look this time, lips pressed together in a line when Yeonjun finally let out a breath that he’d been holding. “Then I’ll learn.” 

It was him who held out his hand for Yeonjun that time. When the older prince accepted it, Soobin knew they had made a promise. 

The walk back to the garden fence felt longer than when they had ventured out, but Soobin had become uneasy the more that the fence came into view. A voice was ringing in his head, even though Yeonjun hadn’t switched forms again, crying out as if in agony. Soobin began to sweat. “Hyung, I hear something weird,” he whispered.

Yeonjun stopped walking when he realized that Soobin had frozen in place. “What do you mean?”

“Someone, I hear someone,” Soobin quickly whispered back, crouching into the grass and tugging the Elysian down with him.

_“-hyun! Taehyun, get out! Go!”_

As they crouched closer to the gate, the wails echoed off Soobin’s skull, making him squeeze his eyes shut as if it’d help the hurt in his mind. There was a loud scuffling, something tearing at the wood and splintering the thing to shreds. At the fence, fruit and vegetables scattered dirty on the soil, and crying out in pain-

“He’s so young,” Soobin whispered, biting down hard on his lip.

A bloody, baby bear. 

And gripping its leg, a glittering pink hand with claw-like nails, rings shimmering on each finger.

Soobin’s blood rushed out of his face. “Hurry, we’re helping him out,” Soobin said urgently, getting up from where he was knelt, much to Yeonjun’s disbelief. 

“Stop! He’s- is that your trap?” Yeonjun asked with a disgusted curl to his lips.

“Of course it’s not,” Soobin hissed, moving away the large splintered wood of the demolished fence. “Shh, shhh, It’s alright,” Soobin tried to soothe the bear, the little thing desperately growling and snapping its teeth at Soobin. “Help me calm him down so I can undo this thing!” 

“Wh- can’t I just knock him out?” Yeonjun grit his teeth, whisper-yelling. His hand stuttered between touching the animal or not. “Here, bite down, come on, get your head off of that,” Yeonjurn urged, offering the animal an apple and being mindful of its teeth. It trembled instead, going quiet as its leg continued to bleed.

Soobin felt sick to his stomach. He had never seen his mother’s magic like this before. The rings on “her” fingers flashed red and the nails dug in harshly, dripping blood down her floating wrist the more that the bear resisted its hold. Soobin, knelt on the dirt and dirtying his knees, hovered his hands over his mother’s until his aura had engulfed her own. As if it were melting away, the pink magic dripped into the dirt, turning into deep red slime on its way down and leaving scorch marks in the soil. 

The reaction gave off a strange steam, and off the skin went, only remaining some apparitioned, fake bone. That too all but collapsed like its strings had been cut when Soobin pulled his too-hot hands away.

As if horrified, the bear only picked up a whole apple in its mouth from the mess of fruit and vegetables on the floor and ran, leaving dark splotches of blood in the soil. 

Yeonjun and Soobin watched speechless as it staggered into Starfall woods.

“Whose hand was that?”

“My mother’s.”  
  


The two of them did not discuss it the next day. There really wasn’t a chance to. Soobin’s mother had also not done or said anything to have hinted that she knew about the trap being set off by the bear. It didn’t stop Soobin from treading lightly around her anyways. Unlike the last time the Elysians visited, Soobin still had to attend his regular classes and refine his magic with his tutor. It was expected of him to set the example this way for people this age, but Soobin was distracted all around.

“You seem uncomfortable,” Namjoon frowned, closing the curtains to Soobin’s study, no doubt believing that the prince was having a headache of sorts. Soobin had been reading the same paragraph over and over again, but didn’t digest a single word from the study book in front of him. “Did you stay up late last night?”

Soobin looked up from his book, paranoid. Did Namjoon know too? Did he know about the bear and the fence, and his mother’s hand? “I did,” Soobin confessed with a sigh, marking the page of his book and closing it for now, unable to concentrate as expected of him. He pressed his lips into a fine line. If his tutor knew already, that means his mother must know about last night. It wasn’t a secret anymore, it couldn’t have been. “There’s something that I-”

“I can’t answer all of your questions,” Namjoon quickly interjected. 

Soobin blinked with his mouth open, seeing his tutor’s jaw set as firmly as it was.

“I can’t answer all of your questions,” the tutor repeated with a sigh. “But in time, you can answer them on your own.”

Soobin frowned, staring into the other’s eyes just as he was looking at Soobin. But the prince didn’t drop his gaze. Respectfully challenging Namjoon was rare enough, and the older yielded with another, heavier sigh.

“If you want to expand what you know, we will have to have more lessons than usual, and it won’t be easy. I hope you’re prepared, and if you’re not, we don’t have to do it all at once. Some answers aren’t light on the mind.”

That reassured Soobin somewhat, that they were vaguely on the same page, and Soobin exhaled through his nose. “I’m ready to learn and really learn.”

Just as Soobin had been warned, he was scheduled for extra study sessions whenever time was available, despite the Elysian’s stay at their home. “I’m so sorry,” Soobin had groaned one evening, head pillowed on his arms. His eyes were practically drooping already, and the flickering of the enchanted candles in the library did nothing to help with the exhaustion in his bones. It had only been one full week of the new schedule, but it had been the most that Soobin had extensively practiced his magic in a long time. 

“I get it,” Yeonjun whispered, running his fingers carefully through the other’s hair. “Rest a while. When it’s time for dinner I’ll wake you up.”

Soobin had simply hummed, turning his cheek a little more comfortably onto his forearm. Their chairs were practically right next to each other at the desk, and although Soobin was slumped over, Yeonjun was curiously reading one of the books that he’d found while Soobin was meant to be studying. “You can read it to me,” Soobin groggily suggested. He could hear Yeonjun laugh through his nose, but the other had complied anyway. Soobin was asleep within seconds. 

It shouldn’t have been as cozy as it was, for Soobin to have fallen asleep all hunched over his studying material, but he didn’t question it. He didn’t want to question it. Later, Yeonjun gently shook Soobin awake when it was time to eat, despite the younger’s puffy face and drowsiness. 

By the time the Elysians left Evenfaun, with the windmill gift installed near the river at the western border, Soobin could make his own fragile apparitions. Regrettably, he slept through the Elysians’ departure, but woke up late in the morning to a gift on his desk.

_“Soobin,_

_You have been working too hard. I’m sorry for pressuring you that night. If I had known what I know now, I wouldn’t have scolded you for something that we could have just talked about. You’re doing your best and I’m sorry. I didn’t want them to wake you up just to say goodbye, so don’t feel so sad and don’t overwork either. We can talk about those other things when we meet again. For now, take care of yourself and enjoy the gift. Don’t miss your hyung too much either._

_Yeonjun.”_

Rolled in thin paper was a metal arrow, though the markings on its sides were incredibly foreign. Strange, Soobin thought. What kind of arrow could fly and also be made of metal?

When September rolled around, Soobin had prepared a package to send to Yeonjun with their usual letters. It was supposed to be the other’s birthday soon, and though they couldn’t spend it together, Soobin still wanted to show Yeonjun that he cared enough to remember the date. Despite the busy schedule that Soobin had inflicted upon himself, being able to send and receive letters, to hear how well Yeonjun was doing and to be cared for even in writing, helped Soobin to breathe a little better. There was now a puffiness to Soobin’s eyes that hadn’t originally been there. Though still just a teenager, Soobin had to relearn what he knew about this place, about his home and history and the world, and he had to secretly do so. 

He had been cautious, pulling away from his mothers’ affection and trying to ignore their hurt expressions when he expressed his own disinterest in spending his rare free time with them. He felt uneasy, knowing that there were traps placed in his garden, and that they were as gruesome as the claw-like hand he had seen that night, dug into the fur of the little bear. He knew that his parents were wary of how he had begun to pull back from them. He hoped they blamed it on some stupid teenage angst instead of his new distrust of them.

He didn’t talk about that to Yeonjun. Soobin lived more paranoid than usual. The package that he carefully constructed with flower bulbs and detailed instructions of how to care for them would arrive in Elysia by tomorrow for Yeonjun’s birthday anyway, and Soobin believed he would feel a little lighter knowing that Yeonjun received his gift. 

The day after that, Soobin received a letter back.

_“Soobin._

_Thank you for the gift. I’ll take care of them. Thank you for being my friend._

_Yeonjun.”_

Despite Soobin’s letter in reply, he stopped receiving them entirely. 


	2. Hueningkai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hueningkai was alone-yet-not-alone. In the meadows, the green drowned the sadness and loneliness away, and the sun made the shrine illuminate every day. The Sunlit Glades were nestled between the western coast and Avianna, the land of fairies and pixies and fae, and it was the place that Hueningkai had called home.
> 
> [Please see chapter notes before reading]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's twt user @soobimoroll with Hyuka's chapter. A map with locations can be found in my pinned tweets. This chapter will take place at 3 and 4! This fic also features bts in cameo positions that are only vaguely related to the plot and are assisting characters, so please keep that in mind.
> 
> BEFORE YOU READ, tw for this chapter:  
> Conversations and thoughts about death, descriptive blood/violence, panic attacks 
> 
> Please read cautiously, as it is scattered throughout the chapter. If you would prefer to skip the chapter, the end notes will include a summary!

Hueningkai was alone-yet-not-alone. In the meadows, the green drowned the sadness and loneliness away, and the sun made the shrine illuminate every day. The Sunlit Glades were nestled between the western coast and Avianna, the land of fairies and pixies and fae, and it was the place that Hueningkai had called home. When the sun rose from the east, it made the entire Aviannan forest look like it was lit up in brilliant orange-yellow magic. It was dazzling, almost like Hueningkai could squint his eyes just enough and see bubbles and other fuzzy things floating through the air. When the sun set in the west, the large shrine in these protected glades would cast a shadow onto the overgrown grass and its speckling of trees.

Young Hueningkai used to pick a sturdy tree every month to make a nest in, and sleep high up in the branches. The spring and summer months brought the prettiest blossoms of flowers both on the trees and in the glades below, and when the winter came, Hueningkai would sleep either in the first room of the shrine, or out on the steps with a steady fire nearby. It wasn’t like he lived like the other magical folk from Avianna, with their robust nests high up in the air, the civilization hardly even touching the floor, but this was Hueningkai's home. 

There was a lot to know, about knowing nothing and knowing everything at once. Hueningkai didn’t have to learn to know something, but had to know of something to learn more about it.This odd roundabout intelligence was why the Original Fae himself put Hueningkai under the shrine Guardian’s care. At least, that’s what they had told him, when he had been moved out of his class in Avianna and set to live in the Sunlit Glades. He liked to believe it was because he was a little different from the other fae folk, but similarly, Hueningkai grew lonely because of the difference.

His wings dragged on the ground when Hueningkai walked. It made his back and shoulders ache, and when Hueningkai was younger, he would tearfully ask the shrine Guardian for a back rub to ease the pain. No one had expected Hueningkai’s wings to overgrow as they had, but it was just a part of his unique physique that he’d grown used to over the years. The best part was laying down on the strong, wide branches of the trees that separated Avianna from the Glades. Sometimes, Hueningkai would let his wings dangle down toward the floor, and it’d put less stress on the joints. 

Most Aviannans had pale, translucent wings that were somewhat fleshy but not flesh at all. For the most part, in this forest of green and gold, the wings were just tricks of the light themselves. Avianna was Hueningkai's home, sort of, but it was so easy to feel like an outcast with his completely opaque and unable-to-conceal wings.

In a way, they were Hueningkai’s burden. It was easy for Hueningkai to get this complex, with how large and bony his wings were, from instances where he had to ask his not-parent, sort-of-guardian to help him clean the stark white feathers that he couldn’t reach. As far as he knew, he was the only one to have feathers on his wings, and the other kids would tease him for looking like a chicken and behaving like one as well. The distance used to make Hueningkai’s heart ache. The loneliness used to be too much for him. Now, Hueningkai had settled on being out of the way and quiet instead.

They say Avianna plays favorites, and Hueningkai was no exception to that. The Original fae, the ruler of Avianna, wasn’t the type of person to remain in the city of gold and stay on his blinding throne. Hueningkai found himself receiving the elder’s gentle care and attention during his more formative years, after all. He dressed in such flowy gowns that the children would follow him around on the trail of magic dust that he left behind. Hueningkai used to want to follow him too, and play in the river with the nymphs and climb into the trees, just like the others did. The Original tried to get Hueningkai to play with the other fae folk, as it seemed like he had a soft spot for the different fairy that Hueningkai was, but Hueningkai preferred to keep to himself in the end. 

When Hueningkai was younger, he had been incredibly shy to newcomers, but was an energetic and curious kid to those he was familiar with. That still wasn’t enough to get him to play with the kids and their prettier wings.

It didn’t really matter that much. Once Hueningkai had become ten years old and visited the shrine for the first time, he’d been put under new rules. Unless the Original himself had come to pick up Hueningkai from the Glades, he was to remain right beside the Guardian.

The first time that Hueningkai was allowed into the shrine, he cried. There was a purpose for it to be so massive and strange. Somewhere inside, Hueningkai had been told once before, was someone with so much power that they must be protected by the many rooms and by the Guardian himself. Hueningkai gripped the Guardian’s hand incredibly tight on his first visit. The steps up to the shrine were wide and steep, and Hueningkai needed to be carried on the Guardian’s hip. 

The Guardian, despite being large with armor and scarred on his arms, never held Hueningkai less than gently. The Guardian was equal part guardian of the shrine as he was Huening’s Kai’s guardian anyway, and Hueningkai remembered being set on to the floor, but hiding behind the other’s legs. The memory had been blurred, but Hueningkai remembered how it felt, to hold the Guardian’s two fingers in his own smaller hand.

The inside of the shrine was lacking in light, but it was not completely dark either. When the big doors behind the both of them slowly closed, it was as if something deep into the shrine had become lit with fire, and the orange glow spread around the walls and ceiling, creeping toward the both of them. Hueningkai whimpered, turning into the Guardian’s back to hide as best as he could, though he still curiously peeked past the other’s side. With the new light in the room, the walls became more clear, showing endless mirrors and forcing Hueningkai to stare at himself in the face.

“Is this the young boy?” A voice, rich and rumbling, echoed from the inside of the shrine. 

Hueningkai’s eyes prickled with tears at the strange voice, scared from the unknown.

“Oh don’t feel afraid, your wings are so lovely.”

“Easy there,” the Guardian cooed, petting Hueningkai’s hair. “He’s a shy little one. Go on Kai, say hello.”

Hueningkai wiped his nose first, wings nervously fluttering behind him. Being as young as he was, he didn’t have the best control over the anxious ruffle of his feathers. He peeked up at the Guardian with teary eyes, shaking his puffy head of hair, begging not to do so.

“It’s okay. Come to the mirror, Hueningkai. Let’s just sit awhile,” the smooth voice called from inside the shrine.

The Guardian sat first, gently tugging Hueningkai’s tiny hand until the other willingly took a seat beside him. “What’s so scary, Kai?” he asked sincerely, obviously a little endeared by the younger’s tiny tears and ruffling white feathers. “Take a look, this is just us. We shouldn’t be afraid of ourselves.”

Almost pitifully, Hueningkai picked up his head to look, and it was moments like that that made him feel silly for being afraid in the first place. Just as the older had said, it was only the both of them in that glowy room, staring back at their own reflections. Hueningkai could even see how his wings were pulled so tensely against his back, and he swallowed thickly, relaxing them until they were lax once more. As long as he could keep holding his Guardian’s hand though, maybe it would be okay to just take a better look.

“Nothing to be scared about.”

Through the mirrors and mirrors, Hueningkai could see every part of himself reflected. He could see himself straight on, and from the sides, and if he were to concentrate really hard, he thought that maybe there was even a mirror behind him. But that would be silly. The door was behind them.

“He’s burning strongly,” the phantom-like voice hummed in thought.

“I’m not too warm,” the little Hueningkai quietly, politely insisted, and the Guardian laughed heartily, ruffling the mess of the kid’s hair.

“Oh… I’m sorry to have assumed,” the voice mused, and after a light pause, it sighed. “I see that you’ll be a great person, Hueningkai. Why don’t you get ready for bed, and my guard and I will talk?”

It was as if that day flipped something in Hueningkai’s daily routine. Once the moon had set, and the sun had risen over their grassy glades, Hueningkai had been gently woken up from his nest high up in the trees. There would be no more venturing into Avianna, they had told him, remorsefully so. At least, not unless the Original was the one bringing him there in the first place. When the new rules were set, Hueningkai didn’t object. How could a kid object in the first place?

He was to stay in the glades and have his lessons with the Guardian instead. It would be fun, they insisted. Hueningkai would learn so much. 

Hueningkai learned to fly.

“When did you become big and strong,” the Guardian smiled softly, holding onto Hueningkai’s hands as the other beat his wings, hovering in the air in front of him.”You’re going to be the best, aren’t you, Kai? You’ll use your heart to protect people?”

“Mhmm!” Hueningkai smiled brilliantly, eyes crinkling when the Guardian twirled him around in the air. Being only just ten years old, Hueningkai didn’t understand what he was agreeing to, but it sounded heroic at the core, and Hueningkai had a big imagination for that in the first place. Once his feet were back on the ground, his hands were released, and instead replaced with a little gift. “Is this mine?” Hueningkai asked, unfurling the cloth that had been put in his hands. Unraveled, it was obviously a cloak that tied in the front and had a slit in the back for his wings. That was a nice little bonus for Hueningkai, who often needed assistance with covers for not properly fitting his wings.

“It’s all yours, Kai. Look at how handsome you are,” the Guardian fondly smiled, tying the strings in the front a little more properly than Hueningkai had done. The gold runes of the fae folk, and the emblem of their people were sewn into the trims of the fabric. “Do you want to take a look?”

“Yes please,” Hueningkai answered, rocking onto his tippy toes. The Original played favorites with him that he didn’t even know, but it was nice to receive such pretty gifts in the first place. It almost made up for being an outcast.

Hueningkai didn’t need to hold onto the Guardian’s hand, this time that he entered the shrine. As far as Hueningkai knew, only they and the Original were allowed into the Glades, much more so into the shrine, but as a child, Hueningkai didn’t question it. He liked to come and go as often as he could, often finding company in the deep, soothing voice of the person in the shrine.

At the first room full of mirrors, Hueningkai watched himself, curiously turning to see how the cloak shimmered on his frame. “It’s kinda big,” he frowned, seeing as the thing went way past his knees and dragged a little onto the floor.

“You will grow into it,” The voice in the shrine hummed. “Is this another gift, Hueningkai?”

“Yes!”

“Then wear it nicely. The Original is coming to take you into Avianna today. Wear your cloak proudly.”

That made the young stand up straighter in his new clothes, and he quickly thanked the shrine before running outside- coincidentally right into a firm body. He fell onto his butt with a little “oof!”

“Oh!” A giggle sounded above him. “My how you’ve grown. You look amazing in gold.” 

Hueningkai, just a child and eager to make the adults happy, quickly stood up straight and dusted off the back of his pants. He politely clasped his hands in front of himself once he was finished with fixing his appearance. The feathers of his wings very happily rustled behind his back. “Hello,” he said, equally as polite. “Thank you for the gift.”

The Original as usual, cooed and offered his hand to the child.

It was always exciting to leave the Glades, but much less exciting when the other children joined them for their lessons in Avianna. Being shy, Hueningkai preferred to stay at the Original’s hip, holding onto his hand or the flowy fabric of the other’s skirts. The Guardian had told Hueningkai before that in his life, he would never be truly alone, but the words didn’t sit too long in the younger’s mind. 

Of course he could never truly be alone. There were simply too many new people to meet, even if Hueningkai was a bit shy to say anything to them first. 

As he held onto the Original’s pinky and ring fingers, and walked back into Avianna to talk about their days and weeks, he tried not to let his feathers or the cloak drag too much on the floor. Hueningkai was a quiet thinker. By the time the other fae kids joined, Hueningkai wanted to hide in his wings.

“White wings!” They called for him, poking at the bits of his feathers that stuck out beneath his cloak, despite Hueningkai’s attempts to keep them hidden underneath. “We haven’t seen you in so long!”

“Why haven’t your wings changed yet? They’re so white still.”

“Show us, show us!” 

Hueningkai let go of the Original’s hand in favor of hugging his oversized wings around himself. “They’re just wings,” he frowned, already feeling warm under his collar for being singled out. Even with all these people around him, Hueningkai never really felt like he fit in. He was supposed to be learning and making friends like the adults had encouraged him to, but even after they had their lesson, the kids all left Hueningkai to play in the fountains. He tended to keep to himself anyway. 

In the civilization so golden and pure, Hueningkai felt like a dull jewel. People always had something to say about the kid that the Original was practically raising alongside the Guardian. The attention was weird, the expectations even more so. During “school” in Avianna, Hueningkai learned how to respect nature, and how magic was individual, and that Avianna was safe but that there were serpents and giant owls in some lands far, far to the north. Recently, they had begun to learn about Evenfaun.

Hueningkai liked to daydream about faraway lands. He wondered if there was anyone like him in Evenfaun, who could understand what it was like, to have a home but feel so different than everyone else.

After the lesson, the other children left to go play with bubbles, and Hueningkai remained at the base of one of the looming trees. He had been told that he couldn’t play with them, that his large wings would blow all of the bubbles away and get in the way as well. Hueningkai didn’t want to argue with them anyways. He preferred to draw like this, with a stick in his hand. The Original sat on an intricate wooden fence some feet away, eyes closed and no doubt listening to the children to make sure that they wouldn’t get themselves into trouble. “What was it like before the star fell?” Hueningkai asked, drawing aimlessly on the ground.

He wasn’t so good with reading and writing like the other fae kids, but pictures came easier into his young mind, like centuries old memories with crisp designs. 

“Before, the land was empty. Just overgrown grass and a ring of ice,” The Original hummed, leaning forward. When he blinked his eyes open, fairy dust fell from his eyelashes. “Even monsters wouldn’t live there. Luckily, something warm came, and after some darkness, the world became warm too. What are you drawing though, Hueningie?” 

“A bow,” he smiled, adding little shapes into the bow’s upper limb. “I kept thinking about a pattern. And a little charm that goes up here,” Hueningkai answered, though just as quickly as he had said it, the Original snatched the branch away from his hands.

“I just remembered,” the fairy stood, readjusting his golden skirts. “You have a lesson with your guardian today. We’re going to be late unless we hurry, Hueningie.” 

“But my drawing,” Hueningkai frowned, already being tugged along by the Original, but the look that the elder gave him had Huening closing his mouth, teeth audibly clicking. They were going so fast that Hueningkai felt as if his feet didn’t properly touch the ground and that the Original blurred and became transparent fairy dust.

The wind rushed past Hueningkai when they stopped, and there they were instead, on the steps to the shrine. 

“Go inside, Hueningkai.”

Hueningkai didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand what he did wrong. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to understand, but rather that the adults made it near impossible for him to figure out what he had done wrong. As if he had been scolded, Hueningkai’s shoulders slumped and he dragged his feet the rest of the way up the steps. Like he had done before, he sat himself in front of the many mirrors. The door behind him closed with a soft thud. He could barely hear the murmurs of the adults outside the door, but kept his back to them anyway.

It was difficult. He curled his wings around himself, smoothing down his long, agitated feathers and swallowing past the lump in his throat.

“You’re sad.”

Hueningkai let out a shuddering sigh. “They always talk, but I don’t get to listen,” he whispered to the voice in the shrine. Hueningkai was alone but not alone. Even on days where things seemed okay, he knew that he would be asleep alone in the trees when the stars finally came out, and that he wouldn't’ be let into the adults’ secret conversations. 

“Do you want to listen?” 

The mirror in the room all shimmered, shiftling like clear crystals that began to refract colors on the floor surrounding Hueningkai. In his ring of colors, Hueningkai uneasily put his fingers into the light. “Yes please.”

“Okay. Watch carefully, polite boy.”

_“You have to stop him once he starts. Before he starts even,” the Original hissed, jabbing his small fingers into the Guardian’s shoulder. “He already completed drawing the bow today. He was going to draw the charm.”_

_“And what then?” The Guardian frowned. “Do you think he’ll suddenly remember everything? That’s not how it works. That’s never been how it worked.”_

Hueningkai wanted to cringe away from the agitation that dripped off of the Original’s frame, right down to the quick beats of his wings behind in. In a way, he felt guilty for causing the Original to be so upset in the first place.

_“I’m trying to protect him.”_

_The Guardian gently held the Original’s wrist, pulling his hand away from his shoulder. He wasn’t known for being one with a quick temper, and never not-ever had Hueningkai seen the Guardian be mad. The way he smoothed down the tension in the Original’s fingers were a testament to that. “He has a story to write for himself. Listen to me- really listen,” he murmured, copping the Original’s cheek in his hand. Just like that, the anger melted away from the Original’s frame, and he sank, looking exhausted._

_“He doesn’t need to remember the bow. Not now. No young boy has to know that his destiny is to die.”_

Hueningkai’s eyes widened and he felt his breath hitch in his throat. “What does that mean?” he timidly asked, clearly in denial of the strange truth that he had just heard. The colors faded away, and Hueningkai was left staring back at his pale face in the mirror.

“It means some day, you will die. Everyone’s time here runs out eventually.”

“I don’t want to die.”

“The purpose wasn’t to scare you,” the voice reassured, and Hueningkai wanted so badly to believe him. He could tell that the voice wasn’t lying, but such a blunt truth only made him curl up in his wings and pull his knees up to his chest. “You should know, some day, you will leave the Glades. I’ve seen it. The day you leave, please don’t be afraid. Forgive them for being sharp with you. They’ve only known how to protect you and be afraid.”

Even if they wanted to protect him, why couldn’t they do so normally? Why couldn’t they “protect” him in Avianna? Why did they word it so strangely- that a fact of life such as death was something that was looming and scary and different to Hueningkai?

Hueningkai just wanted maybe, a hug. And a friend. He wanted to be normal and treated as such.

“Come in closer and sleep. You deserve some rest after a tiring day. All will be okay.”

There was no questioning the voice in the shrine, just as there was no use questioning the adults’ decisions. The strange fairy’s autonomy was nonexistent since his not-exile had been implemented. Even to someone so young, it was heartbreaking. He found his night blanket still tucked up against the glass for those particularly lonely nights. Sometimes it felt like here, it was just him and his unfamiliar reflection.

Still, when Hueningkai’s heavy eyelids finally gave in, he could hear the gentle hum of a sweet lullaby.

He didn’t mean to grow up resentful. Although he was more reserved than should be usual, Hueningkai followed with his studies and became an incredibly agile flier. Feeling the air between his feathers, so high up in the air, was the biggest sense of freedom that he could manage. At twelve, still young but skillful enough to touch the clouds, Hueningkai got his first real glimpse of the ocean. Its stunning blue image burned into his mind, like the clouds in the horizon were an untouchable dream.

“It looked gigantic,” he rambled on to the Guardian. Despite not telling the older that he knew of the secret that he and the Original were keeping from himself, not much had changed between the both of them. The Guardian was still his mentor. 

Hueningkai was on top of the sloped roof of the shrine, laying on his tummy and looking down at the top of the Guardian’s head. The other was standing in front of the doors to the shrine, at his post per usual. 

“Like the rest of the world is ocean. I want to know what the water feels like- if it’s cold or warm or something.”

“Some parts of the ocean are warm, and some parts are as cold as ice. I promise you though, it goes on and on, but eventually, if you go far enough and in a straight line, you’ll end up right where you started.”

“That sounds amazing,” Hueningkai sighed. There was a lot that he didn’t yet know about the world, despite having read about it and having paid attention during his classes with the Original. Hueningkai knew some facts about the world despite never being taught them, like how there was a river that separated Avianna from Evenfaun, or that Chatoya was a brilliant speckle of small islands and a large one, and that it was made of brilliantly colored crystal. The knowledge came in the same way that drawing runes in the sand just came to his mind without the effort.

“Don’t daydream too much about it,” the Guardian teased, turning his head up to Heaning Kai with a brilliant smile.

Hueningkai reached down with his hand, pretending that he could reach the Guardian’s hair like that. “So you’ve been to the ocean then,” he curiously noted, dangling over the shrine’s first roof. “So you haven’t always just been stuck here?”

There was so much about the Guardian and the shrine that was still unknown to Hueningkai, even though he attempted to get some information out of the voice in the shrine at least twice a week. Hueningkai never doubted that he was learning from Avianna or the Sunlit Glades, but he had become suspicious of the way that the adults kept their secrets from him. He figured that at some point, he would discover them, in one way or another. 

“There are beautiful things in the ocean, and that’s the last I’ll say about it. You know, I was the one who built this shrine, so I’ll be the one to stay here and protect it,” The Guardian smiled sadly.

Hueningkai watched as the other heaved a heavy sigh and turned his head forward again. The fairy wondered if the Guardian’s sudden brooding had anything to do with the “big secret.”

Secrets were stupid, and that was why Hueningkai didn’t like to keep too many of them. That, combined with being a terrible liar, didn’t make for a good scenario on Hueningkai’s part. 

It would be useless to question the Guardian’s behavior. Instead, Hueningkai climbed the rest of the way up the shingles of the roof, perching atop it to peer around the Glades. It was becoming a strangely chilly fall. His birthday had come and gone two months ago, and the Glades were already swimming in colors of gold and red. The autumn flowers had already bloomed, but even as Hueningkai pillowed his head on his arms, admiring every soon-to-be crunchy leaf at the Glade’s speckling of trees, he felt uneasy. Even curling into himself and huddling in tightly with his wings and thick cloak were not enough to keep the cold away.

He hadn’t meant to doze off on the shrine’s roof, but when Hueningkai woke again, it was because it had begun to snow. That, in and of itself, was incredibly odd. For the years that Hueningkai had been alive, he could count on one hand the number of times that snow fell in Avianna or the Glades. The Elysians were supposed to keep the snow at the mountains and leave this area with just the chilly wind. Feeling stiff and frozen, Hueningkai shook the little bits of snow off of himself. The sky was cloudy and covered, and Hueningkai for the first time, had difficulties feeling his way around in the dark. He didn’t think much about it- sliding down the height of the shrine with the intention of curling up warmly inside. 

Weirdly, he found the steps to be empty, except for the light dusting of snow. Hueningkai shivered, teeth clicking and rattling when he pulled open the doors to the shrine, expecting to find the Guardian taking shelter inside. Instead, Hueningkai only saw his splotchy-cold face and bits of snow stuck to his heavy cloak. 

“Hello?” He called out, expecting for the voice in the shrine to answer. This time, he only heard his voice echoing off the mirrors themselves. 

That didn't sit well in Hueningkai’s stomach.

A frightened, shaking moonbeam had emerged from the ceiling, casting a silver glow onto one of the mirrors. Its image was unclear, flashing weakly its light onto the reflective surface. It made Hueningkai want to vomit.

_The Guardian’s expression didn’t show a struggle. He kept his hands pressed into a dark shadow’s throat, but the being’s bright white teeth were pointed, snapping at the Guardian as if it would tear flesh if it could get close enough. The Guardian held it against a tree, slamming its head onto the bark as the slimy creature with glowing red eyes spat its dark blood at the Guardian’s face. “Give him to me!” it hissed, and the Guardian grit his teeth in response, holding the beast in place. “Hoseokie-hyung, give him to me!”_

Hueningkai hardly had time to look away before the Guardian had unsheathed his sword. Just like that, the beast’s head rolled to the floor, and Hueningkai’s breath staggered in his throat. The Guardian’s eyes were cold, void of its usual warmth. He looked nothing less than a beast himself, cruelly tossing the body into the snow. 

Hueningkai trembled as the vision fizzled out. There was no voice in the shrine to comfort him this time, no lullaby, no words of wisdom. Hueningkai was always alone. There, frazzled and mind crying out in the dark, Hueningkai gripped his hands so tightly that his fingernails left indents in his palm. Anything to keep him from screaming. 

If Hueningkai was destined to die, did that mean he would be next? Would he turn into sludge and slime like that beast- be shoved against the bark of these sacred trees? Would his head roll onto the icy floor?

No. That was impossible. Hueningkai wasn’t a beast- he was just a different, unique fairy.

But what if they wanted to keep him close like this, so that when the time was ready, they could take him out easily? He would trust them. Hueningkai, even if the sword were in the Guardian or the Original’s hand, if it were pressing against his skin. He would let them do it.

The red eyes burned into Hueningkai’s brain, as if the monster were looking through the vision in the mirror and directly at Hueningkai. The stone expression on the Guardian’s face had the fairy heaving breaths.

Was Hueningkai a beast, like that thing was? Was his blood as dark and slimy? Would he turn into shadows, would his eyes bleed red like that thing did? Hueningkai wasn’t like the other fairies. Maybe he was a monster. Maybe he was a beast too. 

He remained frozen in his paranoia, spinning around quickly when the heavy doors to the shrine opened again.

The Guardian still had the beast’s dark blood across the front of his body, staining his clothes and face and hair like thick ink. Hueningkai’s legs refused to move. “What did you do to that thing?” he asked in disbelief. The beast had to have known the Guardian- he called him so closely like that. Even Hueningkai never thought to call the Guardian by his first name.

“Hueningkai-”

“Stay back!” 

Hueningkai stepped back when the Guardian stepped forward. His eyes frantically scanned the older, distrustful and afraid. If someone close to the Guardian had become a monster like that, who was to say that Hueningkai wouldn’t also become a nightmarish beast? Maybe all the feathers would fall off of his wings and he would grow talons, powerful and sharp. He knew things that not everyone knew. He could be the next one to experience the Guardian’s sword. 

He continued to shake from head to toe, white feathers puffing up with each beat of his terrified heart. “Keep away,” he warned, breaths coming in and out rapidly.

Hueningkai’s destiny was to die.

He had seen it all already- Hueningkai was always alone, and his destiny was to die.

In desperation, Hueningkai’s wings beat at such a large force that the mirrors in the shrine rattled, and Hueningkai’s cloak bunched up, practically hovering with the swirling air in the room. 

He dashed past the Guardian, feet barely skimming the floor as his large wings did the work, burning. Hueningkai shoved the other to the ground as he gripped the thick door frame, hauling himself out and catapulting himself into the freezing sky.

“Hueningkai!” the Guardian called, but in his fear and pain, Hueningkai didn’t turn around. He grabbed onto the front of his cloak, feeling the weight of the fabric keep him from hurrying and getting the hell out of these Glades, out of danger. The drag of the cloak choked him- he could hardly breathe, and the emblems of gold on the trim were only taunting his fate. He tugged at the strings until the thing came free, falling to the ground below him. 

He didn’t know he was capable of flying as quickly, as swiftly as he did. Free from the shackles of the cloak and forever paranoid that the Guardian was still chasing him drove him to work harder, beating his wings until the wind roared in his ears. The cold air bit at his cheeks, turning them an angry red, and every sharp intake of breath sent the freezing air into Hueningkai’s burning lungs.

He needed to get away quickly, out of these Glades, this paradise that had become a doomed prison. He trained for this, flying near soundlessly aside from his heavy breaths and the wind roaring in his ears. He was afraid- if Hueningkai turned, would he see the Guardian’s empty eyes, or the beast’s head in his hands, dripping again? The Glades were supposed to be some magical dreamland, but the more that Hueningkai mourned for all the years he spent locked and quieted, teased and outcast, the more that it twisted into a dungeon.

Even as Hueningkai flew away, rushing so quickly that the dusty leaves became blurred and the falling snow felt like a million needles on his skin, he couldn’t stop thinking about it- that black ink, the nightmarish shadows, and a reality of his doom.

Maybe if he could get away, he would be spared from that dark destiny.

It wasn’t until Hueningkai flew so far that he was someplace over the ocean that he began to choke on his sobs. The force of it made him waver, his whole body trembling, right down to the painful cramping in his shoulder blades and sides from all of the exertion. Each beat of his wings only made him cry even more, dripping tears and snot into the dark water below. 

In the darkest night, the turbulent wind whipped against Hueningkai’s exhausted frame. The starless, moonless sky only seemed to fuel the agony and betrayal sweeping through his body. He could feel himself sweat, but Hueningkai’s body only felt cold from his face to his feet.

His wings hurt.

Those cursed things, the reason he didn’t belong, the reason he couldn’t live normally, and the reason for his tears. 

In his periphery, Hueningkai could hardly see the land. It was a black formless thing, as black as the agitated ocean below, and when Hueningkai took a proper look over his shoulder, he watched as a shot of silver emerged from the distant mass.

In his wide eyes, Hueningkai saw the bow and a metal arrow, and two hands with perfect nails, firing, shooting him out of the sky.

Hueningkai fell into the ocean. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter recap:
> 
> Hueningkai is a strange, one-of-a-kind fairy in Avianna with his bird-like and overgrown wings. He has been taken care of by the ruler of Avianna and the Guardian of a secretive shrine. The person in the shrine ("Voice in the shrine") is a powerful near deity who after meeting Hueningkai in the shrine for the first time, instructs that Hueningkai stays safely in the Sunlit Glades instead of Avianna. Both the Original and the Guardian dote on Hueningkai, but he is only allowed back into Avianna for some lessons during the week. He's shy and teased for his wings, and finds comfort in drawing. Hueningkai has a strange memory and is able to recall shapes and figures that he hasn't even seen before. The Original overreacts at one of his drawings, and after being sent to the shrine in "punishment," the voice in the shrine lets Hueningkai see what the Original and Guardian are talking about. He eavesdrops that he has a death prophecy, and it haunts him. One night, the world has become weirdly snowy. Unable to find the Guardian, the voice in the shrine silently shows him the adult's whereabouts. The Guardian is slaying a beast, and Hueningkai believes that he has turned into a beast that will also be slain by the Guardian, and that explains his detachment from Avianna and his inability to fit in. Hueningkai panics and runs away, flying toward the ocean because he doesn't know where to go. When he turns around, he sees a silver arrow being shot at him, and falls into the water.
> 
> And that's that! Follow me on twt @soobimoroll for updates on the next chapter!


	3. Soobin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He could do this. He ought to know. This land was considered his. There was more about the world to learn, and something needed his help. Maybe it was that Taehyun that he’d heard something call for.
> 
> Soobin made the same walk that he had done with Yeonjun, past the fence. Only this time, without the same comfort, and with a steeled mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've made my maps more accessible! Please see my pinned tweet @soobimoroll for the thread containing all my Safe in the Garden things! This chapter takes place back at number 1. This chapter was originally going to be longer but for the sake of keeping things timely and not confusing, it's been cut down! Let me know what you think? 
> 
> No chapter warnings.

It was no use getting a hold of Yeonjun anymore. Once the letters had stopped arriving, and the leaves of the trees in the garden were turning gold with the seasons, Soobin’s own letters had started to become rejected and returned. Soobin wasn’t a fool; he could take a hint, but it didn’t hurt any less.

On top of his lessons with his tutor, and keeping up with the garden and the strange visitors that came for food every night, Soobin was growing bitter with exhaustion. The things he used to enjoy would no longer bring him happiness, and his relationship with his mothers had become awkward at the very best. The secrets that Soobin selfishly held, about his feelings and heart and experiences, made him want to burst. It didn’t use to be that way- when Soobin actually had a friend to confide in.

He wanted to lay his head down and actually rest or catch a break, but ever since the fence had been torn apart at the far corner of his garden, the young prince had been making more of an effort toward leaving leftover fruit and food in a basket there every night. It was a responsibility that he had looked forward to, even though it hindered the total amount of sleep that he could get every night.

Even as exhausted and emotionally drained as Soobin was, he tiptoed out of the house and into the garden, dragging a basket to find near-perishable fruit and vegetables that would’ve gone bad if the visitors at the gate didn’t come back and take them. It reminded Soobin of the bear that he and Yeonjun had saved from his mother’s trap. It had obviously been trying to find something to eat before running back into Starfall, and Soobin wasn’t the type of person to ever deny something or someone food. Since refining his arcane skills, the aura that he felt at the gate every night didn’t exactly scream “classic bear” to Soobin, but he also wasn’t the type to question someone or something in need either.

It was weird. Soobin tried not to lament on this loneliness and tired ache that he felt in his muscles and bones, even as he continued to drag the filling basket with him to the back of the garden. Remembering how comforting it had been to be told to rest, with him and Yeonjun together in the library would only make him want to slump further and further into the floor. Soobin dragged his feet. He didn’t know why his heart ached so badly. He had been alone for so long before knowing Yeonjun anyway.

Soobin just wanted to sleep, but he had responsibilities to take care of.

As a result of learning about his mother’s inhumane grip traps, he had been scanning and searching every square inch of this massive garden for more. Using bits of the broken fence, Soobin had stayed awake until dawn the next day, driving the stakes into the floor and marking the traps that he did find. Unsurprisingly, it created a grid that bordered the Starfall woods. Being too afraid to set them off again, Soobin cast his spell like a life-pulse in small bursts to find the hidden pockets of pink magic. Searching was also exhausting. Existing sometimes, was exhausting in its own right.

Bitterly, Soobin felt like an idiot for not realizing the traps were there in the first place. He tried to give himself credit; he had only just started to refine his powers, but Soobin had the stomach-churning realization that he wouldn’t have been trained by tutor Namjoon unless he explicitly asked as he did. Soobin wonders what would have happened, if he decided to remain complacent in his powers and not expand them. The thought was terrifying. Soobin looked to the stones on the floor. Yeonjun would be ashamed of him for even thinking about that.

He wished that this whole situation was something that he could talk to someone about. There was so much pressure, to discover and learn on his own, and to do so without support was digging craters into Soobin’s mind and heart. Yeonjun had comforted him with his words, both verbal and written, when Soobin opened up to him about his struggles. There was no crutch anymore, Soobin realized, hoisting the basket higher on his hip. It was uncharacteristically cold, despite the leaves still stubbornly holding onto their branches. 

He could sit in silent heartbreak if it meant that in the future, he could show Yeonjun just how much he had grown.

Like on that night, there were the strange echoes that Soobin had been hearing as well, as if something were trying to whisper guiding words into his mind. The only thing it had done then was feed his paranoia - hearing things that no one else could hear. Yeonjun that night, certainly didn’t hear the call of the name like Soobin had heard, repeated in fear. 

Taehyun. 

Soobin would find this person no matter what, or else the memory of the name would drive him completely mad.

Thankfully, Soobin had only recently heard the mind echoes and whispers at night, when he was leaving the fruit by the broken gate. Sometimes, he didn’t hear that name, but the new name that was being called was so distant that Soobin couldn’t distinctly decide on what was being said.

They were the cause for the dark circles beneath Soobin’s eyes, but he had felt responsible somehow. Since he and Yeonjun had saved the bear from his mother’s trap, Soobin paid an incredible amount of attention to the Starfall woods. In the night, it seemed to glimmer and sparkle, and from Soobin’s periphery, the enticing gleam looked like a million near-nightmarish eyes. 

Still.

Soobin didn’t turn away. He had to learn to be brave. 

On that night, something didn’t feel right. For the past month, it had been strangely cold, and there were even talks that Avianna was covered with snow. It wasn’t yet close enough to Evenfaun’s snowy season, but the wind was still icy, biting at Soobin’s nose and chin and making his eyes water from the cold. It made him wonder just what in the world was happening in Elysia, to have let the thick snow cover Avianna like it did. They usually respected the natural seasons so well, but to have shoved all the cold south and to the east as they had done, Soobin was too afraid to even think about it.

He wondered if Yeonjun was okay.

_“Don’t go, please-”_

Soobin froze.

Distant in his mind, he could hear the weak voice, right down to the agonizing sniffles and thick sobs. 

Soobin set the heavy basket down by the broken fence, peering past its fallen wood, into the overgrown field that he and Yeonjun had ventured into, those months ago. Since Yeonjun had stopped replying to Soobin, he hadn’t had the courage to venture out too far past the fence, but Soobin was certain. What he heard had come from past the fence, toward the distant shore. 

He could hear the crying, distantly echoing but so mournful that it pierced Soobin’s heart. There was no way he would be able to ignore it.

 _“Please, please,”_ the voice continued to beg, and Soobin wrapped his coat tighter around himself as the wind roared.

Against proper judgement, he gripped the sleeves of his coat and his body trembled as he made the first steps past the fallen fence.

He could do this. He ought to know. This land was considered his. There was more about the world to learn, and something needed his help. Maybe it was that Taehyun that he’d heard something call for.

Soobin made the same walk that he had done with Yeonjun, past the fence. Only this time, without the same comfort, and with a steeled mind.

The crying that bounced off of the cavity of Soobin’s skull made him wince, made his heart squeeze so sympathetically that he wanted to cry as well. Even as he crunched through the overgrown grass, carefully marching through the icy roots beneath, Soobin felt compelled to continue toward the shore, further than he had walked with Yeonjun.

He didn’t need to go that far.

The first thing that caught Soobin’s breath in his throat were how massive the wings were, and how icy the feathers had become- unnaturally reflective and clumped together. He could hear it even clearer now, the labored breaths under those completely soaked wings, and his huddle up legs. Soobin’s hands trembled as he knelt beside the strange being, trying not to be whipped around too much with the wind.

Despite the force of the wind, the other’s hair was so icy that it barely budged. 

Soobin pressed his palm on the stranger’s shoulder, exhaling in relief as his green magic extended and weakly pulsed, showing something firm and true. Whoever and whatever this was, they were hurt, but strongly alive.

“Don’t be afraid,” Soobin said, hoping that his frightened voice would carry over the force of the wind. When he retracted his hand, the spore-like aura dissipated with the frozen wind. He fussed, prodding at the other’s shoulder and trying to get a better look, or at least see if the stranger was physically hurt anywhere. The winged person choked on a sob and shivered, and Soobin didn’t hesitate in deciding it then: he would bring him inside and care for him.

This was his right, as a prince, to care for anyone in his realm, despite the circumstances.

If Soobin was cold out there, and he was even bundled up as much as he was, there was no doubt in his mind that this stranger might freeze up and die if he didn’t get help, and fast.

It was a struggle, with the stranger’s limbs being so thin and lanky, but his wings were gigantic and frozen. “I’m so sorry, shh, it’s okay, be still,” he tried to comfort the stranger as the other moaned in pain, tensing up so much in Soobin’s hold that he felt like a frozen ice block. He couldn’t get a firm enough grip on the other’s frame, especially with those wings in the way. He hooked an arm beneath the other’s knees, and another in between the other’s massive wings, but it still wasn’t enough for Soobin to confidently get him off of the floor. It also didn’t help that any time Soobin vaguely jolted the other, the other would weakly cry.

Instantly, green projections of his hands melted off of Soobin’s actual hands, holding the stranger from the small of his back and gently keeping the stiff wings off of the ground when Soobin managed to finally stand. Then, he could effectively cradle the other against himself, apologizing for having to rush, but Soobin could feel the cold even seeping into his own frame, simply by holding the other closely.

Soobin steadied the both of them before rushing back up the field, further from the shore and to the broken gate. “It’s okay- I’ll get you warm,” he tried to say as he half-walked-half ran, heels nearly skipping on the stepping stones of the garden. The broken gate and the basket abandoned there were long forgotten, Soobin’s mind completely set on getting this stranger some help, and fast. 

Despite the freezing wind and ice crinkling and falling off of the other’s wings, he completely sank into Soobin’s chest. The laxness in his frame and even expression had Soobin’s blood running out of his face in fear, and he picked up the pace- afraid that the other had succumbed to the cold. 

By the time Soobin had hurried as quietly and gently as possible to his room, he lit the fireplace and laid the other on his side some safe distance away from its flames. “It’ll be okay,” Soobin promised, though his hands were completely trembling and his own breaths came in short. The warmth from the flames was melting the weak ice away from the other’s feathers, creating a cold pool of water on the floor, but Soobin needed to be reassured first. 

There it was.

The rise and fall of the other’s chest and the scrunch of his eyebrows was all Soobin needed to see before continuing to fuss around. It settled away some of the panic in his throat.

He got to work quickly, finding anything he could to soak the water that was pooling around the other’s body. He also pat dry and bundled the other as best as he could in dry blankets, barely noticing when the stranger peeked at him with a dazed and far off look in his eyes. “I wanted to give you a bath,” Soobin explained to him, face still flushed from the earlier physical work, “but, um…. Without overstepping… So I didn’t.”

The stranger stared at him, breathing shallowly through his pale lips. Soobin focused on keeping the other dry and warm, running a towel through the other’s damp hair. “Warm,” the other croaked, and Soobin froze, looking around the stranger in confusion as the other’s face crumpled in and he began to cry. 

“It’s okay- it has been scary for you, hasn’t it?” Soobin awkwardly soothed, ruffling the other’s hair some more, and bringing the dry towel down the other's neck and shoulders. He chewed on his bottom lip, keeping his hands busy in hopes that it’d make the trembling more manageable. 

With the enchanted candles hovering lowly and the fireplace crackling its orange light into the otherwise dark room, Soobin thought that this stranger- well, from his nose and still-plush cheeks and eyes wet with big tears- he was still young. Maybe even younger than Soobin.

It was proven to be true when the other very shakily reached for Soobin, and he ditched the towel in his hand in favor of holding the still trembling stranger to his shoulder. The cries shook even Soobin, and he rubbed the still soggy place between the other’s now drooping wings. He hushed the other, not even daring to rock him in comfort for fear that the other would be hurt. 

There, that freezing night, Soobin continued to gently dry and intermittently wipe the other’s tears away, until the young boy had fallen asleep, completely slumped against Soobin’s frame. The prince anxiously watched over him, feeling unable to move or else the other would wake up and cry again. Soobin was afraid that if he looked away for even a second, something would happen to the young winged boy. The stranger held onto the coat that Soobin hadn’t been able to shed in their haste, as if being even an inch away from Soobin were too painful.

When the fire became too much, Soobin dimmed its intensity, until all that were in the room was Soobin, the winged boy, and their dull shadows against the walls as they fell asleep.

Soobin woke up first in a jolt, confused and near overheating. Last night, he had done his best to dress the stranger and respect his privacy all the while, but it seemed that now, the winged boy was overheating and sweating. Soobin’s eyes felt heavy, begging him for more rest. It was some time right before dawn, Soobin figured with a yawn. The light coming in from the reinforced windows were grey and dim, barely reflecting off of the walls in the room.

He shifted the winged stranger off of him, finally able to pull the other’s completely lax fingers from his too-warm coat. Although the stranger was overheating and sweating, Soobin could see just how the other occasionally trembled. Soobin, projecting his hands again, carefully carried the stranger into his bed- and watched nervously. 

Was there anything he could really do? The winged boy had probably gotten sick from the cold, and Soobin didn’t know enough about potions or medicine to properly help the stranger. Soobin was careful with the giant wings, surprised at how light-yet-bulky they were. Once the stranger and his wings were properly tucked into Soobin’s bed, he took a better look at the other’s sleeping face. 

He looked so young. Soobin didn’t know what would happen if he couldn’t help him-

No. He was Soobin’s responsibility right now, and he would take care of the obviously sick and hurt person, no matter how strange the circumstances were. They were in Evenfaun, so that meant that the prince’s care extended to even a stranger.

But he still would need some help.

After a quick squeeze to the stranger’s thin wrist, and some contemplating about whether it was a good idea or not to leave, Soobin quickly changed into his regular clothes, having felt sticky and gross from earlier, before pulling his robe on. That bit was just for comfort and to ease his anxiety. He hushed all of the enchanted candles as he slowly left his room, closing the door behind himself and charming the handle of it to lock, as was an Evenfaun standard. Quickly, Soobin tiptoed out into the hallway, being extra careful around the staircase that led to his parents’ floor. For some reason, the idea of his mother knowing about the winged boy planted a seed of fear in Soobin’s mind. If the boy wasn’t from here, if he wasn’t human like the rest of them, would he be susceptible to the pink claws too?

Pale in the face, Soobin sped throughout the rest of the dark, cold hallways, until he found the right set of stairs leading to the isolated, far end of his home. It seemed like everyone was fast asleep, and the rustling of people that he heard, ready to start their day already, were too busy to notice the prince dashing through the hall.

The door swung open when Soobin’s hand was still raised, posed to knock. Skittish and anxious, Soobin gasped, looking up from his bangs to see a fully awake Namjoon. 

“I need help,” Soobin urgently pleaded, wringing his hands together and taking quick, paranoid glances toward the staircase. “Please.”

Namjoon simply opened the door the rest of the way, inviting Soobin inside. This wasn’t the first time that Soobin had sought out the advisor for some insight on something. It was his job to do that, wasn’t it? And Soobin was glad to say that the both of them were very friendly toward each other, with Namjoon taking a mentor-like role toward Soobin. The many baubles and brilliantly colored candles seemed to glow all on their own, stacking from the floor to the ceiling. It was so ‘Namjoon hyung’ that Soobin had grown used to the strange array of sundials and timepieces on the walls too.

Once the door shut behind Soobin, the older gestured for Soobin to sit at one of the velvet stools. The prince moved a deck of cards off of the cushion, sitting down obediently.

“What has got you in a panic?” Namjoon asked, gently placing an odd shaped mug in Soobin’s hands.

“I found someone past the garden,” Soobin quickly breathed, shoulders hunching. It would be no use to lie, especially in that situation. Though he wasn’t forbidden from going past, it was the same dilemma that he had faced with Yeonjun that time many months ago. There were no rules to go against, which meant that he technically wasn’t doing bad, but it was definitely unspoken that the fence was supposed to be a barrier. 

“In the field, before the coast,” Soobin continued after taking a careful sip of the liquid in the mug. It was hot. “He was freezing and hurt, so I brought him inside, but he’s feverish.”

“Finish drinking that first,” the advisor gently ushered, pointing to the mug. “I have something here for fevers. I’ll help you give it to him, but afterward, we’ll have to take him to the infirmary.”

“No!” 

Soobin’s fingers trembled around the ceramic mug and he stared up at the adult with wide, owlish eyes. His heart thud in his chest rapidly, and Soobin's past-exhausted gaze frantically pleaded with Namjoon’s again. “He doesn’t belong in the infirmary. He isn’t from here, and if my mom finds out…”

That was the first time he had said anything about the traps, even as vaguely as that, and to an adult no less. Still, Soobin felt as if he could trust Namjoon, judging from the way the other’s eyebrows pinched together and how he had clicked his tongue. “What is he?”

“I don’t know,” Soobin honestly answered, dropping his gaze into the mug again. “Aviannan maybe? But I found him on the east. It doesn’t make any sense.”

Avianna was just a jump over a river, a large forested land that went from the river and westward from there. It was supposed to reach the other side of the ocean. Even though Soobin hadn’t personally gone there himself (or gone anywhere besides Evenfaun), he knew that it would be ridiculous for this winged person to have made it all the way from the west to the east coast without any help. 

It was silent between the both of them for some time, but the advisor seemed to work a little quicker, digging through drawers before producing a vial. Soobin had become less frantic after finishing whatever it was that Namjoon gave him, and when Namjoon gestured for the both of them to leave, he set the mug and deck of cards back onto the stool.

The two of them were quick, stepping through the dark hallways so fast that Soobin’s robe barely even skimmed the ground. He was a step or two behind Namjoon, hurrying so quickly that the only noise made between the both of them were the rustling of their clothes as they turned sharp corners and into Soobin’s wing again.

Soobin opened the door first, the knob lighting and letting them into the room. He didn’t wait for Namjoon in the doorway, feeling unease as he returned to the winged boy’s side. It was as if for the short time that Soobin was away, the boy had only gotten worse, sweating and shivering and curled into a little ball, laying pitifully on his side. Namjoon’s jaw was completely set, the closer that he came to Soobin and the stranger, and it had Soobin freezing. 

“Feed him this,” the older whispered in a command, handing the vial to Soobin, who popped the cork off with his thumb. “And make sure all of it gets into his mouth, Soobin.”

The prince shoved an arm under the boy to prop him up, helping the stranger to lean on Soobin’s side. His hands shook when he brought the glass up toward the other’s face. Being this close, he could see every bead of sweat on the poor boy’s face. The boy had somewhat woken to being jostled, but his barely open eyes were glassy and faraway. Where Soobin was holding onto him, his skin felt sticky.

“There, that’s good, let’s drink some of this,” Soobin tried to seem positive and calm, despite how his fingers were still twitchy with the urgency. In an attempt to help the other be a little more cognitive of the situation, he brushed his knuckles under the other’s chin before trying again to bring the glass to the other’s lips. 

No matter how dazed the other seemed, through his shivers and sweats, he was aware enough to follow directions, tilting his head up until all the liquid had slid down the boy’s throat. The boy weakly coughed, eyebrows pinching together. 

Namjoon had been busy with something on the other side of the bed, looking at the boy’s wings but respectfully not messing around with them. “Lay him down again and get a wet rag for his forehead,” Namjoon said, replacing Soobin at the other side of the bed. “He’s still too warm.”

When Soobin returned, he reached past Namjoon to set the cold compress on the boy’s forehead. He seemed even more awake now, staring at Namjoon in confusion. Whatever it was that he had fed the boy, it was already working wonders on the rate of he other’s shivers and coughs. Soobin pulled back the boy’s bangs, holding it back with his palm so he could readjust the cold compress.

“Do I know you?” the boy rasped, and Soobin’s eyebrows scrunched, looking at how his tutor had bit his teeth down, drawing runes with his fingers on the back of his hand and pointedly ignoring the boy’s stare. 

“No. We have never met.” 

Suspicious, Soobin kept his palm on the boy’s head. The kid’s hair, a bit long and curling at the end, was stiff. If he looked closely, Soobin could see a strange white dusting on him.

He was distracted, curiously noting the moles on the boy’s face, when Namjoon had hovered his hands over the boy’s chest. His long fingers were steady, and his nails began to glow a deep violet light. It crackled into lines down the length of his fingers, as if the veins under his skin were illuminated from inside. On the back of Namjoon’s hands, from what Soobin could see, were astronomical time pieces, the circles quickly twirling backward in time. 

The winged boy instinctively reached for something to hold, finding Soobin’s wrist and squeezing it when his entire body tensed. Just like a band, the tension snapped and the boy let out a weak cry, sagging against the bed again, breathing out a long sigh.

Soobin had never seen anything like that before. Everyone in Evenfaun… they were supposed to have pink-red magic. That was the characteristic of someone from Evenfaun. Not that brilliant purple that disappeared just as quickly as it had been put to work. It looked like there were more secrets here that Soobin had yet to discover. 

“Are you hurt still?” Namjoon asked, shaking his hands off and rubbing at his joints.

“No,” the boy had whispered, looking so defeated and weak that Soobin couldn’t help but feel a little bit of pity. The fingers around his wrist were so lax that Soobin could have forgotten they were even there. “I’m cold,” he added after some thought, sheepishly keeping his eyes away from both Soobin and Namjoon. Soobin pulled his wrist free to readjust the blankets for the boy instead, wanting to keep his hands just as busy as his mind was. So immersed in his fussing around with the blanket and tucking the boy in around his wings, Soobin hardly caught the last little phrase from the winged boy. “You were so warm.”

“You’ll… It’ll be okay,” Soobin tried to reassure, uncomfortable with the situation. It was as if he didn’t understand a damn thing that was going on, and the gears in his head were turning like crazy, but all Soobin was able to do was draw blanks. It was frustrating. He was the prince. He should know. He should know about winged boys and secret magic. 

Namjoon seemed to want to add something to the conversation, but shook his head when his eyes met Soobin’s. “His name is Hueningkai,” Namjoon added instead.

Somehow, Soobin was frustrated to hear a name so unfamiliar to him. Some part of his mind had wished for this to be the 'Taehyun' he had heard be called in the garden. “So you do know him.”

“I know _of_ him,” Namjoon correctly, lips pressed into a line.

Soobin decided to drop it, turning to the boy again, who was already beginning to doze back off. “Please…. Don’t make me go back.”

There were too many secrets here. Soobin felt like he would suffocate if people didn’t just speak their truths soon, but he also wasn’t the type of person to force others to share their secrets either. Even as a prince, he wasn’t entitled to the truth. He would discover it himself, in some method or another. With time. 

He and Namjoon had left the boy to sleep. He already sounded much better, breaths no longer raspy as he snored quietly on the bed. He didn’t move around as he had done before. 

He and his tutor sat in chairs at the far end of the room, refusing to say much. Soobin wanted to sleep.

“You must have a lot of questions,” Namjoon sighed, gently cutting the silence. “I still can’t answer them all. I can’t tell you what to do about this.”

Soobin’s shoulders slumped, but he nodded nonetheless. “I don’t understand why things have to be kept a secret.”

“I know,” Namjoon apologetically patted the younger’s shoulder. “I want you to watch over Hueningkai, Soobin. Maybe the both of you can become friends. He might be staying here for some time- after I go talk to your parents. I’ll bring breakfast for you later.”

Soobin didn’t say anything in return. How was he supposed to? It seemed like the only good that the adults could do was keep secrets and leave Soobin scrambling for answers that still didn’t make sense. He would be turning fifteen in just about a month and a half, but Soobin only felt more and more like a child. 

He was still young; he should have been caring for his garden and doing well in lessons, not finding secret traps and discovering old magic in his tutor’s hands. He wondered if his parents knew about Namjoon’s ability- whatever that was. Maybe it was a new secret for Soobin to keep, but he hated the thought of having to keep it. 

The past months had been exhausting. He wondered if Yeonjun would know what to do. He wondered if it was still silly to be thinking about Yeonjun.

Resting was somewhat out of the equation, with the sick, fast asleep boy taking up the majority of his bed space with his wings. Soobin resorted to changing the other’s cold compress and pulling up a chair by the other’s side. Even falling asleep in a chair seemed like Soobin’s best bet, at that point. 

Hueningkai was kind of cute, now that he was sleeping properly, Soobin realized. It was probably because the other was younger than him, or at least seemed so, that he couldn’t help but feel a little fond and relieved that the other was fast asleep. There would hopefully be no more coughing fits or shiver cycles. The rise and fall of the other’s chest had hypnotized Soobin, lulling him as he slouched forward in his chair.

In a chair beside the winged stranger, Soobin lay his head on the blankets and quickly fell asleep.

Later in the morning, when it was a liveable hour and the room was filled with light, Soobin awoke to rustling in the room. He rubbed the grit from his eyes, barely registering the stark white feathers against the dull color of the walls. “What are you doing?” Soobin groggily asked, obviously confused from being suddenly awoken. The more that Soobin became aware, he realized that Hueningkai was weakly holding himself up with one hand on the bed frame, the other clutching one of the blankets from Soobin’s bed. 

“I was gonna tuck you in,” the boy whispered, obviously embarrassed to have been caught. 

Soobin got up from his chair with a little grunt. “I’m okay,” he promised, gently pulling the thick blanket back to the bed. “You’re the one who needs the blanket,” he added with a little pat to the other’s hand in hopes that the other wouldn’t feel so bad about trying to do something nice. “You’re still sick. You should lay down.”

“I can’t. With you sleeping like that- it’s not fair.”

Soobin was taken aback, steadying the other with a careful hand on his shoulder. He looked distraught, like the fact that Soobin had even woken up was a bad thing. “If you’re uncomfortable,” Soobin said instead, biting back a yawn and pointing to the far end of the room, “I can go lay over there.” 

Despite his still-somewhat-groggy head, Soobin had managed to walk the boy back to the side of the bed and help him back under the blankets. He even switched out the other’s cold compress.

“We can share?” The boy quietly offered, now that the blankets were all the way up to his chin. “I don’t mind. I feel bad and… you’re so warm.”

Soobin had no idea what the kid’s obsession with calling him warm was about, but he shuffled back to where he’d left the chair on the other side of the bed. It had to have been how exhausted Soobin was, that he hesitantly pulled the blankets down for himself and lay at the very edge of the bed. “I won’t get in your space, I promise.”

It was quiet. And awkward. Soobin felt like he had already infringed on the other’s privacy and autonomy, by bringing him up to his room without the other’s consent, after finding him practically dead in the field past the garden. At least Hueningkai made it seem like he was grateful for being saved, essentially. Soobin could tell that the other wasn’t falling asleep either, from the rustling on the other side of the bed. Soobin pointedly kept his eyes up at the ceiling.

“Oh. I’m Soobin, by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

Soobin was surprised by the boy’s politeness, turning his head to see the other on his side, facing Soobin, but eyes stuck on his own hands and nails as he played with him. He must be more comfortable laying that way, Soobin realized, with having those giant wings and all. It was a wonder how they’d managed to get covered by the blankets in the first place. At least Hueningkai felt just as awkward as he did. That was a relief at least. 

They were too awake and conscious for this to be anything less than awkward in the first place.

“Are you feeling better?” Soobin asked instead.

“Mmm… yeah,” the boy shyly answered. “Thanks for finding me.”

“It’s okay. I’d hope… someone would do the same for me.”

Even though it was bright in the room, Soobin wasn’t able to tell what time it was, but he knew that he’d usually be called down for breakfast at some point soon. His bones ached from being so tired though, and all Soobin wanted to do was stay in bed all day and catch up on some sleep. He could even put aside the awkwardness of sharing a bed, just to get some proper sleep. 

That was only wishful thinking though, as some time later there was a knock at the door. Right. Namjoon said he would be bringing them breakfast. Soobin had gotten up quickly, feeling the cold of the room as he’d left the blankets. The weird cold front being passed through Evenfaun had made all the nation feel cold, indoors and outdoors. Maybe he’d have to light the fireplace again. 

“I talked to your parents,” Namjoon said, steadying the large tray of food in Soobin’s hands. “They’ll want to see Hueningkai when he’s better- it isn’t a bad thing. I promise. He’ll be in Evenfaun for a while, like I said.”

Soobin nodded, carefully balancing the tray in his arms. “Thank you for… helping me out,” Soobin sighed, unsure if this could even count as ‘help.’ Sure, the other had helped him with Hueningkai’s sickness, but there were only lists and lists of secrets that had been written into Soobin’s brain as a result of it. After thanking Namjoon for the food, he closed the door with his foot.

“Want to eat something?” Soobin asked, setting the food carefully onto the bedside table. “I think this soup is for you, Hueningkai.”

They were just strangers, but Soobin felt an odd sort of link with the other. He didn’t want to think of anything between them as weird though. Just like when Soobin had first met Yeonjun, Soobin wondered if this connection he made was just because he’d been alone, or if they’d genuinely created that connection for themselves. 

“Thanks,” the winged boy said, sitting up in the bed with the blankets pooled around his lap. 

Soobin laughed lightly through his nose at how fluffed up the other’s hair was. He pulled up the same chair from learlier, preferring to sit beside the other so they could freely take things from the tray. Namjoon had obviously stacked the food up for two. 

“Take whatever you like,” Soobin urged, purposely saving parts of his own food for the stranger to eat. He probably needed the nutrition more than Soobin did, looking as frail as he was. “But finish the soup for sure, okay?”

“Ah- okay,” the other gratefully smiled. He was still flushed in the face, obviously still sick, but awake and alert enough to fill his stomach. 

The two of them had become quiet as they ate. Soobin himself was a bit of an introvert, but kept pushing fruits and half of his sweet bread to Hueningkai’s side of the tray. The younger enjoyed the attention and care, from the little grins that Soobin managed to catch without staring too much.

“Thanks again for… I know it was you who picked me up from the shore.”

Soobin shook his head, waving a hand like it was no big deal. “It’s fine, really. And you weren’t all the way down at the shore, you were really close to my garden. That’s how I saw you,” he explained, if only to just give the stranger a little more perspective on what happened last night. “But… How did you end up there?”

Hueningkai laughed sadly, putting his empty bowl down onto the tray. “I don’t know. I don’t even know where ‘here’ is...”

Soobin pursed his lips. “Well. We’re in Evenfaun, for starters.”

It concerned Soobin to see just how confused the other was. Hueningkai gripped onto the blankets, crumpling them between his fingers. “I… made it that far? I was over the _water_.”

“What do you mean?”

“I- ran away from home,” the other mumbled, dropping his gaze. Soobin could tell that there was more that the other was hiding, but he didn’t want to scare him off. 

“I don’t mean to assume you’re from Avianna, but I get the idea almost? But your wings-”

“-are a little different,” the other finished, self consciously curling them in toward his body. 

Soobin scooted his chair closer to the bedside. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been to Avianna,” he explained. “They’re pretty though.”

That seemed to help with the younger’s feelings, as Hueningkai’s wings relaxed back against the bed. They really were so gigantic, Soobin noticed, and quite expressive too. He was only just a bit curious. “You think so?” Hueningkai asked instead, though he was munching on his lips to keep the small smile at bay.

Soobin couldn’t help but smile in return. “They’re fascinating.”

The acceptance of Hueningkai’s wings were something of a win condition in Soobin’s book, and it had certainly been met, as the other became curiously chatty from time to time. Soobin, who was used to being alone and having minimal conversations with people outside of Namjoon, ate up the new interaction as best as he could, paying careful attention to Hueningkai.

“We build nests in the trees. In Avianna, it’s like touching the sky,” the other had sighed, like he was daydreaming about his brilliant home.

It felt like deja vu, learning of far off places, stuffed with magic that it was near incomparable to Evenfaun. Soobin tried not to think about how familiar this conversation was, like he’d had something similar with Yeonjun when they were friends. Or were they still friends? It was too complicated, and he needed to focus instead on what Hueningkai was saying. 

“And the entire city,” the younger added, playing with his white feathered, “it just sparkles gold.”

Soobin was enthralled by the other’s stories. Being unable to travel himself, Soobin learned to live vicariously through others’ stories, and that made his rather confined position to be a lot more bearable. “That sounds amazing,” he sighed. “But… if this is too soon to ask, let me know. It sounds like a dream there. I don’t know why you’d leave?” 

Hueningkai’s bright smile began to dull into a melancholic one. “I was in danger if I stayed,” he shrugged, but Soobin could catch the pain on the other’s expression. “When you’re not like everyone else, you get treated like it too. Like you’re too different to even be around anyone. Like what you have is too much for people to handle.”

The words hit close to Soobin’s heart. He pressed his lips into a thin line, thinking about the many times he was confined home instead of going to meet his same-aged peers. He thought about how his first friend had to be an Elysian, and their friendship was long-distance at that. The first break from this carefully crafted reality had been Yeonjun, and even that ended with sadness too. He wondered if his first friend ever was doing okay, all the way up the mountains and behind those waterfalls.

He thought about how truly lonely it was, being the Queens’ son, and having this strange blue green magic in an ocean of pink and red.

Soobin related greatly to the winged boys words and found comfort in knowing that they were in similar situations, despite Soobin not being in any physical danger, as far as he knew. 

“I know what you mean.”

_I can feel that our hearts are the same._

“You’ll be safe here-”

_I’ll promise that to you._

“And you can find comfort in me if you need it. I’ll be your friend.”

_No matter how long it’ll take, I’ll treasure the friendship we’ll make._

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed my twt handle! Please find me @soobimoroll on twitter! I also just found out about this txt secret santa fic fest thing going on, so check out their event too @txtfest (I'll be participating!) Thank you so much for reading ^^


	4. Beomgyu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beomgyu was raised by a coven of witches. There were six of them, and they comfortably kept Beomgyu in a house in the woods. Since birth, he had never seen all six of them in the same room at once, rather- they came and left in strange bursts, but Beomgyu was able to learn how to properly live as a witch as a result of that. As far as he knew, the woods were full of life and care, and nature loved Beomgyu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This bit of storyline takes place in the spring of the same year as the previous chapter. As usual, you can check out the map I made on my pinned tweet @soobimoroll. This takes place at #5! 
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: mentions of blood and violence, near death experience. This isn't as heavy of a chapter, content wise, compared to hyuka's, so I won't be providing a summary at the end notes. Please skip to the comments and leave me a message if you'd like to skip this chapter and have the summary instead. 
> 
> Thank you!

Beomgyu was raised by a coven of witches. There were six of them, and they comfortably kept Beomgyu in a house in the woods. Since birth, he had never seen all six of them in the same room at once, rather- they came and left in strange bursts, but Beomgyu was able to learn how to properly live as a witch as a result of that. As far as he knew, the woods were full of life and care, and nature loved Beomgyu. It sent its dark vines up the side of the witches’ cabin, and in front of Beomgyu’s window, they would bloom the prettiest violet flowers no matter the season. It behaved like a friend toward Beomgyu, like the woods had waited an eternity for him and was elated that he had returned.

The truth was, Beomgyu had never “left” anywhere. Learning to be a witch, Beomgyu’s permanent residence in Starfall woods was pretty much a given. It was where the coven was based, and although they weren’t related to Beomgyu at all, they cared for him as if they were. If the woods treated the witches kindly, they treated Beomgyu even more so, and if nature treated Beomgyu tenderly, then the witches were quick to follow suit. They were odd, all six of them, but this sense of “oddness” was Beomgyu’s normal life.

The witches liked to curl around Beomgyu in their fox forms, which was a typical sight to see whenever they were making rounds in and out of the cabin. The six foxes varied in size: the coven leader being such a massive fox that the top of Beomgyu’s head reached her shoulder, and one of the other members in the coven was such a small fox that she could playfully weave between Beomgyu’s ankles. That didn’t stop them from pampering Beomgyu and showering him with affection. It was necessary, out here in the woods, to have that kind of closeness and support, or else the darkness and magical fog that appeared at night would create “worry worms” in Beomgyu’s brain.

At least, that’s what he’d been told, and he honestly didn’t mind being wrapped up in a pile of fox fur either.

“Our little child is growing up so well,” they’d say, grooming his hair until it stood straight up. Although they called themselves witches, they’d pranced around the cabin as foxes for more than half the time anyways. Beomgyu learned how to be human of course, but it was still nice to live a rather extraordinary life in the cabin. 

Beomgyu was raised that way, as a witch among a coven of foxes. Witches. They were all in the same, at least in Beomgyu’s eyes. Before he had even learned to read and write, Beomgyu had been raised to understand danger. The world was dangerous, the witches warned. Nature is a different beast because she lives and breathes, but the natural world was filled with such danger. If it got its hands on Beomgyu, the witches solemnly explained, they would tear him to shreds. The same could be said about Beomgyu against the world.

They’d taken something away from him when he was born, they told Beomgyu, and sealed it away somewhere mysterious and deep. “When you one day awaken, and after you understand the world’s danger and your danger to the world, you can have it back.”

That was all that needed to be said. Beomgyu lived as a happy child, often sticking by the witches' skirts when they were in the kitchen or warming up in front of the fireplace. When they were out scavenging for strange mushrooms and plants, Beomgyu would walk behind them holding the wicker basket. The foxes would come back with strange herbs and greens held softly in their jaws, and Beomgyu would march through Starfall with them, dutifully carrying their new finds. Sometimes, when they made big seals on the front of the cabin, Beomgyu would watch and learn, though he wasn’t very interested in the study of magic. 

The nature in Starfall loved Beomgyu. He was certain of it, often taking naps in the tall patches of grass in front of the cabin on warm spring days. It was like the woods were alive, and its dark, glimmering magic within, saw something in Beomgyu that it liked. The grass blades would tickle his nose, would tuck him in comfortably until it was time to go back inside for dinner. 

Life was amazing, in the cabin in the woods. No stranger came into Starfall, and no regular spirit or creature ever left. It was that way for a reason, but Beomgyu didn’t mind. If he was born here, and if nature and the witches loved him so much, it would make no sense to leave. 

The witches didn’t even want him to consider it.

“You’re like us,” one of the witches spoke into Beomgyu’s mind. She was beautiful, a gigantic spirit-like fox with multiple tails. She was the largest of the six witches, and her power itself towered over the young Beomgyu. She sat so properly, with her many long tails extended behind her. The leader of the coven often gave Beomgyu his most difficult lessons to learn. This witch was a master of wit, often riddling Beomgyu and playing games to keep his mind sharp. “A witch so powerful, your spirit can’t be kept in one body. And that is why you are with us in Starfall.”

Her glowy form would tower over Beomgyu, but the white-orange fur was so familiar that Beomgyu never felt afraid of her. At the same time, the coven leader was the most fleeting; with one sway of her many tails, she would dissipate into the trees and leave her golden, glowing eyes to watch over the woods like a protector. 

“One day, you will find your forms, but beware. With a weak mind, your form will cause you to lose your humanity.”

Beomgyu wasn’t an arrogant person at all. He had been humbled as a witch in the coven who respected and responded quickly to the leader. They taught him to have emotion- but not trust everyone. They taught him to have mercy on the less fortunate, but not to hesitate when morals and trust were broken. Although not particularly well-versed in the study of magic as all the witches naturally were, Beomgyu became an apprentice of practical things like weaponry and survivability. 

Despite being somewhat athletic, Beomgyu didn’t prefer to test out his athletic skills unless absolutely necessary.

“It’s to keep your spirit energized!” One of the witches explained to him. Her bright red fur was fluffed up, watching Beomgyu as he struggled to climb up the rocks of the mountain. “Hurry on, we need to make it all the way up by nightfall,” she grinned, though the way a fox grins was particularly teasing to begin with. 

“My feet are blistering,” Beomgyu sadly lamented, pausing to sit on a rock near the path. The fanged bats would come out soon if he didn’t just hurry and make it up the mountain already. Those things could be an issue-more of a distraction with their noisy swarms than any real danger, but the teenage Beomgyu just wanted one easy trip.

“I’m sorry, my boy,” the witch had sympathetically grinned, though her singular tail swished in obvious amusement. “Would it motivate you if I said that there’s a feast waiting for you up there?”

“It might,” Beomgyu pouted, pulling himself up with the most energy that he could manage. “Is it for me, really?” he asked, wide eyed, and the witch just laughed again, hopping up the next few rocks.

“Follow and find out, Beommie!” 

He was good at following directions, but more for the sake of being able to prove to the witches that he could do what they asked, and perfectly too. Beomgyu liked to live for the praise and reward, but didn’t let that inflate his ego at all. Even when his body was sore from the evening hike and his hands became calloused with the big climb, there was nothing more fulfilling than joining the red witch at their place on the mountain. 

As promised, meat was already grilling over a fire. “Yes! I’m so hungry,” he had said, dropping his old bag on the dry ground. The red witch, just as quickly as she had been a fox, was human looking again and stirring something in a large metal pot. The flames of the campfires were incomparable to the bright red of her pretty, long hair.

“Nuh-uh!” She wagged a finger at Beomgyu, bringing the wooden ladle up to her cherry lips to taste its contents. The red witch smacked her lips together and hummed. “Not until you make shelter, young man.”

Beomgyu should’ve expected it- whenever he journeyed with the witches, it was never just for vacation. Beomgyu didn’t have it in himself to complain though, not with his stomach growling like crazy. He had been trained well by one of the other witches on setting up shelter, as was part of his survivability training. In their words:

“Witches live for a very long time, but not forever, and you’ll wish you had kept our lessons.”

That was a good enough reason to make Beomgyu pay attention.

With the material that the red witch had provided, Beomgyu was quick to make something as comfortable as possible (obviously not as comfortable as his bed in the cabin was) so that he could fill his stomach with whatever the red witch was cooking up. It smelled like grilled meat and some kind of vegetable soup that was bubbling right next to it. His mouth absolutely watered at the scents wafting over from the fire, and the red witch barely had time to call for Beomgyu before he’d already patiently sat, ready for dinner.

She laughed behind a pretty hand and gestured for Beomgyu to dive right in. 

Beomgyu wasn’t the type of teenager to worry about meeting other people, pleasing other people, or doing things alone. He could be a sensitive soul at times, but building personal skill and being someone who could in the future be recognized for their moral and strong heart- that made his isolated life all the more worth it. Even as Beomgyu ate, he was in the company of the red witch, yet the silence was peaceful and welcomed. 

There was a reason for having climbed so much, to have hiked to this gorgeous location deep into Starfall, just as Beomgyu suspected. All trips came with lessons, and the red witch dusted her hands once she’d finished her food. “We’re doing moonlit meditation today, so when you’re done, let’s get started.”

Beomgyu, like any petulant teen would, took his time while eating.

The witches called them “lessons.” Everything in life had to be learned through a lesson, and that’s what made it impactful. As the grey witch had explained to him once, “You’ll never truly learn anything unless you experience it.”

Each witch taught Beomgyu something different, and Beomgyu at that point, had practically memorized the cycle in which they appeared and disappeared to teach him such lessons. It had much to do with the phase of the moon, the day of the week, and in some instances, the sky’s visibility. It was rather complicated, but Beomgyu was a good student- especially to the people who had raised him from nothing and spoiled him by giving him a great home in the beautiful Starfall woods. It was almost as if the witches were specialized, like masters or goddesses, like strange spirits who knew a little too much about the past and present and future.

The coven leader, the multi-tailed giant fox, taught Beomgyu how to dissect situations and pick apart reality from fantasy. She taught him how to properly reason, how to make decisions based on fact, and considering that she was the one who gave Beomgyu the most lessons out of six of the witches, became the source of Beomgyu’s ethical and moral stances. There was strangely a lot to learn about a magical forest, and about the creatures that lurked unknowingly within. Beomgyu was growing older, he couldn’t be in the witches’ care forever, and that was also a fact that Beomgyu had accepted with each passing day. 

The witches were knowledgeable, and for that, Beomgyu was grateful. He didn’t want to take this opportunity for granted, despite their comments about him being dangerous. In a way, Beomgyu had reasoned that any living thing could be dangerous. Anything with a consciousness could suddenly turn against their moral compass one day- smash it into a million pieces and drive its empty bits into the darks of the ocean. Anything had the capacity to turn evil, but Beomgyu wasn’t a person who could be easily swayed like that. He was certain of it.

That night, Beomgyu and the witch meditated under the stars until the fire between them burned out and the embers had dwindled into nothing but ash.

When the moon came up so brightly to greet the stars, and settled itself comfortably between the millions of constellations, Beomgyu was dismissed to the little shelter he had made for himself. As he lay down to rest, still full from their delicious meal and exhausted from the big hike earlier, Beomgyu could hear the red witch’s gentle voice singing out to the sky, the words somber and heartbreaking.

He could only wonder who she was singing to.

The following morning, Beomgyu was to fish for their meal. The red witch was a fox again, poised perfectly on one of the rocks, with her tail curled elegantly on top of her paws. “A quarter way down the mountain, I want you to fish there, where the river is gentle. You remember the way right, Beomgyu?” She asked, waiting for him to nod. When he did, she grinned that fox grin of hers. “There’s a basket by the fire pit- oh! And a spear. I have to take care of something. I’ll come find you later.”

Beomgyu readied up with a nod, smiling when the fox, in weirdly cat-like fashion, wove around Beomgyu’s knees affectionately before taking off into the woods.

When he was younger, he made the mistake of pressing the witches for what they did when they weren’t at the cabin. Curiously, he pestered them, wanting to know what sort of work they did, to be bringing him such sweet gifts and clothes and a comfortable cabin life. One of the witches had jokingly booped Beomgyu’s nose after a while of questioning, cheerfully scrunching her nose at him. “Oh, we go and defeat big, scary monsters! The ones hiding in dungeons, Beomgyu-yah!” She had ruffled his hair, and Beomgyu had decided that it would be no use questioning the witches.

Whether they actually sought out dungeons to defeat evil monsters or not, it sounded more of a tale to tell a young kid than a reality, and Beomgyu learned to not press so much about it anymore, or else he’d hear some other inflated tale of monster hunting. He didn’t really _need_ to know what they did in their free time, per say. After all, Beomgyu could only manage himself, and it’d be a waste to become so invested in others. 

Finger the river that the red witch had pointed him to was no big deal. It came right before a rougher section of the river, and as close as Beomgyu was, he could hear the distant roaring of the water going down the rocky mountainside. This area, where the land was surprisingly flat, the river was shallow and gentle, and it was crystal clear. The fish often collected up at the rocks, and that was where Beomgyu would do his fishing.

But something didn’t look right, from what Beomgyu had remembered. 

From intuition, Beomgyu noticed that the trees that overlooked the gentle area of the river had been down, and scorch marks bore into the sides, some of them splotched like explosions and others looking like claw marks. Beomgyu hid himself behind the nearest tree, peering around the bark when he could get his nerves more under control. He hesitated every time that he looked around the bark, afraid that his puffy head of hair would give away his position to whatever made this mess at the river.

That was of course, if it were even still hanging around the area.

Beomgyu made himself small, pressed against the wood and unbothered when the rough bark scratched at his palms and cheek. 

Those things never came out in the daylight.

A bear appeared over one of the fallen trees, but it had eight eyes and its limbs were made of black sludge. He had heard about these creatures from the witches, but had never seen one before. It looked as if something toxic was foaming from its mouth, the way that it stood on all fours and hunched its back. Steam rose from its exposed body, like the sunlight was burning away at its tar-like skin and fur. 

Beomgyu watched silently, half mesmerized by the sight of the monster and half frozen in fear where he was, hiding behind a still-standing tree. He was entranced at the black-violet, swirling goop that slid off the bear’s massive body, acidifying the grass and wildflowers at the bank of the river. Each red eye blinked individually, and when the sludge dripped slowly into the crystal waters, the inky black and purple slime dissipated into a million sparkles like purified steam. 

The world was full of dangers, and anything that lived could be dangerous. Beomgyu had no intentions of poking a bear, so to speak, and figured that the best thing to do in this situation was take his wicker basket and his spear, and march back up the rocks to the base that he’d set up with the red witch. He knew that she would understand, and maybe the two of them could return together later. It wasn’t that Beomgyu didn’t think he was qualified to handle the situation- it was just that he didn’t want to. 

He hardly saw the small frame in front of the bear, gripping at what looked to be a leather bound _something_. The person flipped through the pages, drawing things desperately into the dirt and scurrying backward on the floor as the demonic bear took threatening steps closer and closer. Even at such a distance, Beomgyu could see how the person fumbled with the spellbook in fear.

The bear roared, rearing up to swipe its massive, dripping claws, and missed the person just barely, as the human tucked their body in close, protective of the book as they rolled out of the way. The claws burned into the rock where the person had been pressed up against, turning the rock an angry molten red in the wake of the claws. The person was trying to stand up and run.

They were in danger.

The world was full of dangers, Beomgyu thought to himself, bouncing on his feet as he looked between the stranger, the bear, and the spear in his hand. 

But he could also be a danger in this world, if someone needed him to be. 

“Hey!” 

Beomgyu mustered up as much bravery in his body as he could, dropping the wicker basket to the floor and swiping a hefty rock up instead, hurling it with all the might possible from his arm and shoulders until it thumped into the shadow bear’s side. It connected with a painful sounding thud, and the bear snarled, turning its empty, red eyes to Beomgyu. 

It pulled its lips back, growling dangerously, and Beomgyu’s breath caught in his throat when the bear began to come toward him, clambering over the fallen logs with all the force in its paws. 

It was so dumb- Beomgyu didn’t have a _plan_ , he just rushed this idea when he saw the person’s fearful expression. He needed to be dangerous, more dangerous than some disgusting, slimy bear, and when the bear reared up onto its back legs, growling threateningly at Beomgyu, he gripped the spear tighter in his hand, threatening the bear back.

“Hey you, get out of here!” he yelled over the ferocious roar of the bear. It gurgled black slime in its throat, inky and slipping between its teeth and onto the floor. When it swiped at Beomgyu again, he pulled the large spear up and threatened the bear’s balance, thumping its shoulder with so much force that the bear toppled onto all fours again. “Go!” 

There wasn’t a chance for Beomgyu to get a good look at the person, to know that they were safe, before the bear was roaring again, so loudly that it made Beomgyu cringe from the noise. Disoriented from the ringing in his ears, Beomgyu narrowly missed the claws again, deflecting with the spear and ducking low to avoid those near molten claws from getting a grip on his body. He couldn’t calm the fear in his heart this time, and using the momentum from a turn, drove the spearhead into the demon bear’s shoulder. 

It steamed from the entry point, dripping an inky blood onto the ground and down the shaft of the spear. Some of the splatter on Beomgyu’s forearms burned through the sleeve of his shirt, and he screamed from the searing, scorching pain.

The moment of hesitance and shock from the burns was all the monster needed, twisting powerfully to dislodge the spear, and it tossed Beomgyu’s body, still holding on tightly despite the pain, onto the slippery rocks of the riverbank. The force winded Beomgyu and he gasped for air, hands going slack from the sudden pain that shot up and down his back and chest. 

So that was it.

Beomgyu’s life was short lived, so much so that even as he cried out in fear, eyes wide from the shock as the bear’s teeth came snapping at his neck, he couldn’t even yell for his coven.

Hopefully, he would die as a hero to that stranger.

The bite of death was oddly not so painful for Beomgyu, and in confusion, he cracked his eyes open, pulling his arms away from his face and neck that he’d been trying to protect. Shimmering like a shield, red magic interlocked in hexagons above Beomgyu’s face, just translucent enough that he could see the bear’s rage and feel the heat of its body on top of his own.

Beomgyu dared to look to the side and saw him. The stranger, wide eyed, had that leather book in one hand, and the other outstretched toward Beomgyu. From his fingers, he could see the red hexagons leaking out toward his own body.

The bear roared and snapped its jaws, chipping and cracking through the hexagons until they began to crack, flakes of red magic falling down onto Beomgyu’s face. WIth all the strength that Beomgyu could muster, he gripped his spear again, shoving its sharp head into the belly of the bear, unable to hold back his pained screams this time as the bear’s slime-like blood soaked and burned down Beomgyu’s forearms.

Beomgyu rolled the both of them into the river.

It felt like his skin was searing away, being pulled apart layer by layer until he was raw, but Beomgyu didn’t find any of his own blood in the water. The more force he applied to the bear’s erupting stomach, the more of a mess the crystal waters became. The thing turned into hot bubbles, sparkling until Beomgyu’s vision was overtaken by the glimmers of magic as the dark slime became purified in the river. The bear screamed out, shrieking and making Beomgyu’s ears ring yet again, and Beomgyu growled through his teeth, mercilessly forcing the spear further and further until it became lodged in the rocks of the riverbank behind the bear.

With one last scream, the bear’s form washed away into the clear waters, and the inky black blood became nothing but clear water. 

Beomgyu’s burning body, free of the black sludge and slime, weakly pulled itself out of the river and onto the bank again.

The first thing he saw was that big-eyed kid with the book, watching him with his mouth hanging open. Beomgyu hissed, feeling a burning sensation on his forehead, as if something were being carved into his skin. He collapsed onto his arms, unable to do anything but moan from the pain.

The second thing he saw was the red witch. Her tail swished, but her emotion was unreadable as she sat perched on one of the fallen trees between Beomgyu and the book kid. “You did great, but that was a bit unexpected,” she said with an unsatisfied click, and before Beomgyu could question it, her eyes flashed silver. 

Beomgyu promptly passed out. 

“I’ve finally died,” Beomgyu sadly sighed, staring at his still-dripping wet body from above. He was definitely scraped a bit, and there was no way that his body enjoyed the way that his legs were bent. They weren’t broken or anything, just uncomfortably tucked in. He was laying on his side, eyes peacefully closed despite the way that bits of his skin were oozing blood from scrapes on his arms.

“You did not,” the red witch huffed, standing some place away, lazily flipping through the leather book that the person earlier had been desperately flipping through. “I ejected your spirit momentarily. Your body needs to rest after the Awakening, and you’re too stubborn to stay asleep on your own.” 

Beomgyu frowned at that, uncomfortably grimacing every time he saw his body. He knew that the witches were masters, and that the red witch was particularly skillful at any and all things related to spirit, but having an out-of-body experience wasn’t something Beomgyu had wanted to achieve by fourteen. The more that Beomgyu focused on himself instead of his body, resting carefully on the floor, the more that he realized just how formless he was. At least like that, Beomgyu thought, looking through his transparent spirit hands, he didn’t have any trace on his body of the scuffle that he had with the bear. 

“Wait, an Awakening?” Beomgyu asked after some time of focus. His mind seemed to lose its initial grogginess, and he squatted beside his sleeping body, already kind of pleased at how the cuts and scrapes were starting to scab up. He was glad that nothing terrible happened, though his palms looked roughed up, no doubt from handling the spear. His young hands were still not calloused enough to wield the thing like a professional in the first place. 

Beomgyu squinted. 

“Does it have to do with that?” He asked, confused by the witch’s riddles, but incredulously pointing a finger at a strange black symbol on his forehead. 

“It does. You got it when you killed the bear,” The red witch sighed, like she was proud of Beomgyu and was praising him for whatever the ‘Awakening’ was. 

He remembered the pain he felt on his skin, once the bear had disintegrated into the crystal waters of the river, and Beomgyu remembered pulling his body up the bank. If it were a testament to how he’d protected that stranger and killed the demon bear, then Beomgyu would very proudly wear the mark of his bravery. He reached out to touch, simply curious, but the moment that his hand touched his skin, his soul abruptly entered his body, and he gasped at the sudden ache and pain.

“My whole body hurts,” he groaned, curling in more on his side to cough. The taste in his mouth was metallic. Moaning still, Beomgyu reached for his head to rub at the pain there, remaining on the floor as if the mere idea of moving were already causing him pain.

“Oh yes, that’ll happen,” the red witch sympathetically walked over, bending down to pat his cheek. “We’re going home in just a seco- oh! I forgot. I need to introduce you.” 

Beomgyu didn’t bother to sit himself up all the way, instead just propping himself up onto an elbow with the help of the red witch. When she moved to the side, Beomgyu got a proper look at the person she was referring to. Really, he shouldn’t have been that surprised.

“Mhm, this is Taehyun. He’ll be attending lessons with you from now on,” she explained. “You should thank him for that shield.” 

“Thankful for- oh yeah, I’m thankful that I didn’t didn’t _die_ right then,” Beomgyu frowned, picking himself up even more so that he could properly sit and look at the newcomer. It didn’t make any sense. Why were the witches picking up some random kid that Beomgyu had saved? Why were they making him his new ‘companion’? His body, bruised and pained, protested at Beomgyu’s sudden move to sit up straight, but being as stubborn as he was, Beomgyu didn’t give up until he could eye the stranger. “I speared a bear for you.” 

“I didn’t say I wasn’t grateful,” the kid answered, holding that weird leather book in his hands again. “If you didn’t see me or something, I would’ve died then too, so… thank you for that.” 

Beomgyu could almost feel himself looking like a fool, already feeling regret over snapping at the stranger over some silly assumptions. “Oh,” he lamely said. “Thanks for the shield too, then.” He remembered how the odd magic had shimmered in interlocking shapes, protecting him from certain death. Beomgyu didn’t give up so easily, but in that moment, he’d nearly accepted his fate as a dead one, if this Taehyun hadn’t done something like that to save him. 

The red witch assisted Beomgyu, carefully hoisting the boy up and holding him carefully until he was once again able to stand on his jelly legs. His entire frame twitched in pain, especially on his back and head, like a migraine that spread down his neck and into his shoulders. He wanted to go home and lay on his comfortable bed. He wanted to be soothed by the vines that’d creep up his window and leave little gifts between the cracks. Sure, Beomgyu had done something noteworthy, but he was too exhausted to think too much about it.

And he needed to question the red witch about what an Awakening was. 

The red witch had rolled the sleeves of her dress, busy clearing an area off to the side of Beomgyu and Taehyun. “We’ll talk more after the coven leader gets the information. Let’s go back to the cabin,” she explained, beginning to draw with her silver magic in the air. A large circle crackled to life, like sparks of lightning, and the red witch seemed pleased with herself when the sparks of light turned into a solid, swirling ring. “Taehyun, help Beomgyu inside so I can grab my cookware,” she instructed, already grabbing their hiking gear. 

Beomgyu had hardly realized that they were back at their little campsite on the mountain, no longer at the water’s edge. 

Taehyun approached Beomgyu with an odd angle to his expression. “I carried you up the mountain, after you passed out,” he explained, offering a hand to Beomgyu. Beomgyu could only assume that the trip must have been terrible. No wonder his body had been set onto the floor like that- the kid had to have been exhausted. 

Beomgyu whined a little bit at the pain in his back and head, but the newcomer ended up interlocking their elbows together so that Beomgyu wouldn’t just hit the floor again. Regrettably, Beomgyu’s knees were like jelly, so when he took a step out toward the ring-like portal, he’d started to lose his balance. The two of them settled for holding around the shoulders and waist, as it was the most stable way for them to walk together. 

That didn’t make it any less weird though. Beomgyu wasn’t used to this kind of contact, with anyone really. The witches weren’t tactile in their love, and even this touch as a kind gesture was unfamiliar to Beomgyu, a person who grew up amongst foxes. 

“Wait, go slower, my spine’s gonna rip in half,” Beomgyu grunted, leaning some more of his weight onto the other’s shoulder. As much pain as Beomgyu was in, he didn’t cry once. There were better things to cry about. Or at least, that was what he told himself, to grit his teeth and bear the soreness all over his body. Taehyun had been accommodating at least, tucking the book between his waist and elbow so that he could help Beomgyu shuffle toward the portal.

The whole experience had been terrifying, Beomgyu thought, looking at the slightly shorter newbie and realizing that the both of them were roughed up pretty good. At least they were alive. 

“Have you always been able to do portals?” Beomgyu asked the red witch, face twisting up at the memory of climbing the mountain just yesterday. Was the hike even necessary, if the red witch were capable of such magic? Beomgyu was sad that their little trip was cut short, and even more so that he failed to get breakfast for the both of them. Now, there were three hungry people in the cabin, and two injured ones at that. He wondered if the red witch had seen the whole thing and just watched. 

“No,” she answered, snapping the ring closed when they’d successfully made it into the cabin. “I just read about it in the book. I needed to be reminded,” she explained, heading straight to the kitchen while Beomgyu and his new crutch were left in the front room.

Beomgyu, feeling more wary of this “friend” that the red witch had made, used the mantle place for support instead of the other’s shoulder. “That's your book?” He asked, gesturing to the leather bound thing tucked in the other’s elbow. It shocked him when the kid slightly narrowed his eyes at Beomgyu, gripping the thing just that more closely.

“It is now,” Taehyun explained.

Beomgyu knew better than to question those three words. The new person was weird. He had come pretty much out of nowhere, and how he had managed to climb the mountain like Beomgyu did was another mystery. Beomgyu had made the journey plenty of times, and it was still quite difficult. The more that Beomgyu analyzed the stranger, the weirder the situation became.

It was obvious to Beomgyu that the other’s clothes had probably been really nice once. The designs and red magic he’d seen at the river all pointed to the land closest to Starfall, and the same place where the witches claimed to have saved Beomgyu from. Taehyun looked like a classic person from Evenfaun that Beomgyu had read about. Those bright eyes and frayed emblems on Taehyun’s chest and sleeves were practically pictures off of the textbooks. Not that it mattered; Taehyun’s sleeves were probably long once too, but instead they were cut jaggedly at the elbows. Taehyun was covered in dirt and definitely just as scraped up as Beomgyu was. Maybe even more.

Beomgyu started to feel guilty for judging. Taehyun, as strong willed of a person that he seemed to be, looked small and thin, like he’d collapse like a paper doll. That book in his hands must have been his pride. 

But he still couldn’t be satisfied. Nothing seemed to make sense. He didn’t know why the red witch was so receptive to this stranger, even going so far as to saying that he would study with Beomgyu from now on. He didn’t want to think of her declaration as being out of pity, but that was the only way that Beomgyu could fill in the blanks. He didn’t doubt the red witch’s ability to see the good in different people, but this was the first time ever that Beomgyu had met someone around his age too. Maybe she just wanted him to have a human friend. 

The red witch was cooking something over the fire, and Beomgyu chose to ignore how loudly Taehyun’s stomach was growling. The other seemed no more comfortable than Beomgyu was, which was initially a relief, but Beomgyu thought to at least spare him some of the awkward embarrassment.

The red witch treated their newcomer like a long lost friend. She fed the two of them until their stomachs were ready to burst, and she had also offered Taehyun a bath and one of the unused rooms in the cabin. Taehyun was wary, suspicious when Beomgyu handed him some of his older clothes. Hopefully they’d be just small enough to fit him okay. 

“Why are you being so kind to me?” Taehyun asked, eyebrows furrowing as he received the clothes. “Is it because of the bear? You didn’t need to keep going like that.”

“I know,” Beomgyu said, sticking his hands into his pockets. “But you wouldn’t have been okay unless I helped, right?”

Taehyun looked at the other’s forehead for some time before sighing through his nose. Hesitantly, he handed the precious book he’d been holding over to Beomgyu, who accepted it in confusion. “Look for the symbols page in this. You’ll find something about… that.” 

Beomgyu was an intense person. He committed himself to being a strong and true person who could adapt and grow, and maybe even one day live in such glory. Everything that happened that morning was a testament to the bravery, but after Taehyun was safe and the red witch shot his soul out of his body, it felt like the “him” who resided in it was different from before. Beomgyu was almost afraid to properly look at himself in the mirror, or compare what he saw to the pages in the book.

Still, if the rightfully suspicious newcomer trusted Beomgyu enough to read it, or thought it was urgent enough for Beomgyu to know, then he would do just that.

When Beomgyu retreated to his room, old leather book in hand, the leaves in the window shimmered brilliantly in greetings. Just outside the glass, he watched a red fox dash off the porch and into the foggy woods. Perhaps it would rain soon. His body was still scraped and tender, and Beomgyu hadn’t yet showered, so he made himself comfortable at his bedroom desk instead of the bed. Then, he began to read.

The cover was full of emblems. Despite having been with Taehyun on whatever kind of journey the kid was on, the book looked ancient, important, and sturdy. The strange writing on the front… It reminded Beomgyu of something he’d only seen in dreams, scrawled on cave walls of the mountains of Starfall, and sometimes in the constellations of the sky. The language was made of carefully curled characters, and the more that Beomgyu concentrated, the word sounded sadly in his mind. “Astraevell,” Beomgyu whispered, squinting as he continued to concentrate. The foreign language seemed to fight with the regular language on the page. Beomgyu shivered. 

Even in the margins of the pages, hidden language and characters in old ink turned this way and that, aching in his mind and itching into Beomgyu’s thoughts. He grit his teeth, gripped the book desperately in search of answers to questions he didn’t even know that he had. His body started feeling less like his own. Nothing on the pages made any sense, yet they were just spells and keys.

It was just a spellbook. Nothing more than a spellbook. Yet Beomgyu felt like his lungs couldn’t gather enough air. The symbols on the pages were clearly labeled, explained in depths that awakened a pain in Beomgyu’s heart and all at once, he felt a mournful surge in his chest, like years of knowledge and pain hid behind the notes on the pages.

On the symbols page, the history of something dark remained, like a gray fog would soon overtake the writing on the page, or that Beomgyu had spilled ink onto the old paper.

_“The Queen carries the mark of Dusk, as does the rest of her clan. The Awakening of her highness was the day that started the end of Astraevell.”_

The drawings on the page morphed, distorting from a woman into a lioness, and finally, a dragon that seemed to stare at Beomgyu right through the page. Its eyes turned an inky black, and under the scales of its forehead burned the symbol of dusk. 

Beomgyu slammed the book closed. The skin of his forehead burned- the same design that he had seen on the Queen’s forehead. The edges of his vision became foggy, like smoke had begun to fill the room.

_“You will avenge what they have done to me. Come to me, my child.”_

The words hung in the air in that same strange language, projected from Beomgyu’s own wide eyes into the dull light of the room. Outside, it began to pour. The friendly vines against the windows slithered down for safety from the harshness of the wind. Beomgyu blinked, and the words were gone, but he heard only himself in an unfamiliar voice.

“Yes, mother.”

When Taehyun came to retrieve the leather spellbook, Beomgyu tried not to look as freaked out as he was, feeling like he’d been put back in his body all of a sudden. His fingers trembled when the book left his hands.

“So you saw it,” the other said, holding the book closely again. “The symbols page?” 

“Yeah,” Beomgyu breathed, fidgeting with his hands. 

Taehyun, now freshly clean and curious, was much more different than the grubby person he had saved earlier. His dull eyes became more radiant with life, and that was comforting enough to Beomgyu, who was grateful to at least have someone to talk to. “She was scary,” he added, looking cautiously at the book in the other’s hands. “I… don’t know why the book said that.”

Taehyun frowned at that, opening the book again, but Beomgyu quickly reached over to slam it shut. “If I said it was scary- why would you open it back up?” Beomgyu asked in disbelief. “Seriously?”

Pulling his hands away from Beomgyu, Taehyun held onto the precious spellbook with an expression that made Beomgyu feel like a lunatic. “It’s because I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve read this from cover to cover already.” Taehyun started to open the book again, eyebrows crinkled, and he angled the book in such a way to keep Beomgyu from being able to see. “You looked at the symbols page?”

“Yeah, I did,” Beomgyu frowned as well, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I stopped at Dusk, when the drawings began to move around. The lady was really scary,” he mumbled, shivering. He brought his hand up to his forehead and asked just why… did their symbols match? 

Taehyun scanned the pages, and Beomgyu couldn’t help but feel as if maybe what he had seen would be better off kept as a secret. It didn’t feel like his body belonged to himself, when the Dusk dragon had looked through the page and seemingly into Beomgyu’s soul. “There… Aren’t any drawings of people,” Taehyun mumbled. “I’m not lying, it’s just print. Look.” 

Beomgyu did look this time, in pure disbelief. Just as Taehyun had said, the entire page was void of illustration. The only thing there was a key of the symbols used in the book. “I don’t know what happened,” he said, mouth dry as he helped Taehyung to leaf through the pages. “But I know what I saw.”

There was a knock at the window. 

Outside, the rain continued to pour. It rumbled in the distance, April being the usual stormy month in Starfall. When Taehyun and Beomgyu whipped their heads around to look, they were met with a large white and orange face. “Hello boys,” the coven leader greeted, flickering her ears. Despite the harsh rain, the drops of water appeared to pass right through her body. Not a single part of her fur looked wet. “It appears that this rain will keep us busy for a while. Consider it… A vacation of sorts. And Beomgyu, my child?” 

Beomgyu stood straight, taking his hands off the book and watching the coven leader at attention. Her eyes squinted as she giggled, obviously fond. “Take care of our newest witch.”

It was extremely weird. Although it wasn’t rare for there to be no adults in the house, it was especially strange that Beomgyu wasn’t just alone. On days where he knew that the six witches wouldn’t return home, Beomgyu liked to spend his free time on the porch, belly down and drawing, or even practicing with a sword and a log dummy in the yard. It seemed like none of that was possible; not with the downpour and with his new… room mate? House mate?

For the most part, Beomgyu avoided Taehyun unless it was time to eat, and the other, who he’d learned was a year younger than himself, was especially polite at helping during mealtime. The witches made sure to leave plenty of food for the two of them, in whatever odd hour of the night that they returned home. They were always gone by the time he and Taehyun had woken. Aside from that, it was as if the witches had completely disappeared. 

The two of them ate in silence, sat across from each other at the old, wooden table together. Taehyun seemed sad. He ate, but Beomgyu felt as if none of the nutrients made it into his system, or none of the taste settled onto Taehyun’s taste buds. He looked hollow and confused, but mostly sad, like he had given up something or was longing for something. It made Beomgyu fidget, on the third stormy day, when Taehyun didn’t manage to finish his plate.

“Is… everything alright?” Beomgyu asked. Since the first day that Taehyun arrived, he felt uneasy about the other and his strange, scary spellbook, but he couldn’t stand it when Taehyun looked like a ghost. 

Taehyun kept his eyes on his plate. “Yeah, it’s fine,” he answered, but Beomgyu could see the quirk of the other’s eyebrows. It was so fast, the flash of self-confusion across Taehyun’s face, that Beomgyu would’ve missed it if he blinked.

Looking between his own finished plate and Taehyun’s half eaten one, Beomgyu couldn’t help but frown. “Are you not so hungry?” he asked instead. “You don’t have to eat unless you’re hungry.”

Taehyun nodded, pushing his plate forward a little. “Thanks.”

“Here, I’ll- put it away for you and you can eat it later if you get hungry again,” Beomgyu offered, taking Taehyun’s plate as he stood up. He didn’t know why he was trying to be so kind to Taehyun in the first place. The two of them were total strangers, and as far as Beomgyu was concerned, they would be nothing more than just coven mates.

Maybe that was the reason why Beomgyu was trying so hard. Maybe Beomgyu should have tried harder.

“Hey,” he said, turning to look at Taehyun who was still sat at the table and thumbing the pages of that spellbook in his lap. “Wanna sit on the porch with me?”

“It’s pouring outside.”

“Well yeah,” Beomgyu mumbled, feeling heat on the back of his neck. “But maybe we’ll get to see a lightning storm or something. It’ll be cool. We can keep the candles lit if you don’t want to be in the total dark.” When Taehyun looked as if he were considering it, Beomgyu couldn’t help but feel a little prideful. “Only if you want to.”

Taehyun hummed, ultimately setting the book down onto the counter. “Maybe for just a while.”

They listened to the rain as they sat together on the wooden porch. Taehyun sat at the edge, swinging his legs over and over again. Beomgyu watched as the other’s ankles sometimes caught drops of rain that splashed over the covering of the porch. The other was such a mystery to Beomgyu. His appearance in Beomgyu’s life was supposedly random, but from the way that the witches were reacting to Taehyun, it felt anticipated. Beomgyu joined Taehyun at the edge of the porch, swinging his legs out over the wood just as Taehyun had done. When the other had looked at him questioningly, Beomgyu had only shrugged.

“How’d you make it into Starfall?” Beomgyu asked, after the rain had calmed down some and the light of the moon was slightly visible through the thick clouds. 

“I saw a fence and jumped it,” Taehyun answered honestly, keeping his eyes out to the dark woods. “I thought I’d follow the river and… just ended up where you were.”

Beomgyu nodded, subconsciously swinging his legs to the same pace that Taehyun was. After some time had passed between them, and his butt was starting to get numb from the wood, he decided to sit cross legged instead of swinging his legs. “Why’d you come here alone then?”

He was genuinely curious. Beomgyu had six strong witches, masters in various fields, to protect and raise him here in Starfall. Without them, it’d be a place too tough for one person to live in alone, and Beomgyu knew that. 

It was dangerous here. Beomgyu was dangerous. The witches were dangerous. There wasn’t a single friendly thing out in Starfall, or at least that was what Beomgyu believed until the witches had picked up Taehyun. 

Taehyun looked properly at Beomgyu that time, pressing his hands on the wood of the porch and leaning back onto them. “I have something that someone wants,” he vaguely answered. The sky rumbled, some place deep in the woods. “That person stole something from me. I need it back.”

Beomgyu could understand from the deep-burning fire in Taehyun’s otherwise dull and exhausted eyes, just how serious he was in finding whatever it was that he was looking for. “My coven leader considers you as one of us,” he said instead, breaking eye contact. The mark on his forehead itched. “So if you need help, I can help you get it back. That’s what we do.”

It was a big promise to make between the two young ones, but Beomgyu was firm on his promises to people and to life. He would never let a promise fail. 

Taehyun looked like he understood- appreciated it even. 

“I’ll think about it. Thank you.” 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is actually something that has been split in half, so expect the second half sometime soon. Let's be moots on twt @soobimoroll !!!! Thank you for reading! <3


	5. Hueningkai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He could hear waves at a distant shore. Something shone brightly above Hueningkai’s face, but opening his eyes proved to be too difficult; the light was just too much. The call of a soft song came from somewhere far away, and Hueningkai wanted to respond to its pretty melody.
> 
> “Just a little longer,” a voice promised, cool and aloof, but Hueningkai could feel gentle fingers at his scalp.
> 
> [Read chapter notes for content warnings]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! It's twt user @soobimoroll <3 I'm taking part in a txt secret santa fic fest with two prompts, and the next semester is starting soon, so chapters might be slightly belated! As usual, you can find the map in my pinned tweet under Safe in the Garden's subsection. This chapter takes place at 1. 
> 
> BEFORE YOU READ, >>Warnings for this chapter:  
> Conversations and thoughts about death, panic attacks
> 
> Please read cautiously again, as it is scattered throughout the chapter! If you would prefer to skip this chapter, I will include an overall summary in the end notes.

In the depths of the ocean, Hueningkai drifted aimlessly. His wings were deadweights, dragging him further from the surface, deep until all there existed was cold and darkness. His lungs had stopped burning a long time ago. There was only water; the current tore the tears away from his eyes and Hueningkai continued to shamelessly cry. It felt like he’d created this ocean with all of his sorrow. At least here, there was no one else to betray him.

At least here, Hueningkai was properly alone.

“You’re early,” a voice rumbled from the deep. Hueningkai didn’t bother to move, he didn’t dare respond. “It was supposed to happen naturally, but… you have had a rough time, kid.”

Hueningkai cracked an eye open, wincing at the burn from the salt water. He stared into the black water of the ocean. Something nearby shimmered still, illuminating everything around them in a beautiful rainbow.

“Don’t overwork. I’ve got you. I’ll take you to your real home, child of the Isles.”

Despite Hueningkai’s lethargy, he could feel hands petting at his hair, and another hand held his own, tenderly. Preciously. The water rushed, searching around the hardly conscious Hueningkai. The current felt familiar. Hueningkai closed his eyes again.

_ There were feathers everywhere. Hueningkai danced around lanterns and bodies, laughing so excitedly that the gums of his teeth showed and his eyes crinkled in happy little crescents. When Hueningkai twirled, there were always arms to receive him. The cliffs were gorgeous with color, and some people had flower necklaces and crowns. Whatever the celebration was, Hueningkai never wanted it to stop. _

_ Everyone’s wings were gorgeous. They filled the space in all sorts of colored feathers as music played loudly. The fire at the water’s edge cast their shadows onto the cliffs behind, and kids younger than Hueningkai put on silly little shows.  _

_ “Come here, Hueningie! This is all for you!” Someone called, and Hueningkai bashfully laughed, being scooped up into their arms. _

_ He wrapped his arms around their neck, twirling up into the air with their brilliant wings. The Isles were so beautiful. The black of the night was chased away by the light of the upcoming sun.  _

_ “To Hueningkai! We celebrate the dawn!” _

He could hear waves at a distant shore. Something shone brightly above Hueningkai’s face, but opening his eyes proved to be too difficult; the light was just too much. The call of a soft song came from somewhere far away, and Hueningkai wanted to respond to its pretty melody.

“Just a little longer,” a voice promised, cool and aloof, but Hueningkai could feel gentle fingers at his scalp.

He cracked his eyes open, burning against the bright light. Above him was a ceiling made of pure crystal. Although not completely opaque, Hueningkai could see something on the other side. He swallowed around a dry, scratchy throat. He wasn’t dead. He felt too much pain to be dead. It still smelled like the salty ocean, even in this crystal room.

Hueningkai managed to turn his head, and through his foggy vision, saw the outline of some person beside him. Oh. Maybe that was where the near-familar touches were coming from. The person’s hair became a million colors, just as Hueningkai had seen radiantly in the sea, and Hueningkai sighed, closing his eyes.

“Almost there. Wait a little longer.”

The water was far gone, but Hueningkai’s body had gone cold. He was being set in the grass when an apologetic hand caressed his jaw. “Please understand, I can’t go any further. Endure the cold; your fire will return soon.”

He wanted to reach a hand out to the stranger, beg them to come back. Why was it that everyone he trusted turned their backs on him? It was so cold. His body felt like ice, and Hueningkai hardly had the capacity to move. He cried, but even his tears felt as if they froze in lines on his cheeks. His wings were lead blocks; even if Hueningkai thought really hard about moving them, it felt like a feat that was too impossible. Violently, the wind pushed against Hueningkai’s small frame, icy to the point that Hueningkai felt like his skin would be cut.

Hueningkai lay there and wondered what would happen if he just let the dragon kill him with that arrow.

Wait, dragon?

“Don’t be afraid.”

That new voice was unfamiliar. Hueningkai wanted to beg for it to stop, he wanted to freeze and give up. He didn’t want to experience the pain. Hueningkai cried, unable to keep his eyes open, but still not resisting when he felt his body be moved. Even so, there was a disconnect between his mind and his ‘self’. Hueningkai drifted somewhere in his head, pitifully thinking about the pain in his freezing joints, at least until his head was cradled against something warm. And just like that, Hueningkai felt like his body was beginning to thaw. 

Whoever had picked him up this time, the one trying to say nice things into Hueningkai’s ringing ears, felt so incredibly warm. Hueningkai wanted to sink, further and further into that warmth, and hopefully that time, he wouldn’t have to return to the surface anymore. A part of him wondered if he was actually still drowning somewhere in the ocean, and this was all a dying dream.

But the warmth carried something familiar. Like that strange memory he had, Hueningkai felt like he was once again spinning and twirling in the mass of wings that he’d called “home.” That memory was fleeting; Hueningkai forgot the second he tried to recall it. 

Why was there so much sorrow in Hueningkai’s chest? What was he mourning so much for? The pain in his heart swelled, climbing up Hueningkai’s throat until he began to quietly cry again. Like a fickle flame, the heat was extinguished as the ice slid away from his white feathers. His body was becoming numb from the cold all over again. Hueningkai tried to open his eyes, but could only see someone else’s eyes and somewhere in there, a deep, deep green. 

Hueningkai didn’t think about his actions. In his fear and exhaustion, he reached out just like how he had done in that memory, and when that someone held him back, it soothed the deep pain and scars forming over Hueningkai’s heart. 

He was drifting somewhere between consciousness and dreamland. People were speaking to him, and he was leaning against someone, but something beautiful and green stayed at the edges of his cloudy vision. It twinkled invitingly and soothingly, and the next thing Hueningkai knew, he was looking at an equally calming stranger. He felt knuckles under his chin, and as if enchanted, drank whatever the person had brought to his lips.

Some of the brain fuzz began to ebb away, and in a second, the boy was gone. Hueningkai stared at the dimpled man before him. The other’s soft features looked oddly familiar too, though Hueningkai couldn’t quite place a name to the face. “Do I know you?”

His voice came out quiet and hoarse, and Heeningkai grimaced at the dry-scratchiness in his throat. Something gritty caught in Hueningkai’s teeth when he bit down. There was too much light- Hueningkai squeezed his eyes shut at the moment of pain, before all of the hurt had left just as strangely as it arrived. The fog was nearly all gone, and the fear started to creep in with the realization of his situation. 

Everything was unfamiliar. The blankets and the bed, even the tapestries on the wall were unfamiliar. The people were unfamiliar, but it wasn’t the two of them that were making him uncomfortable. They asked him questions, but the voice felt unclear. 

“No,” He’d whispered when they asked if he was still hurting. The movement had his body aching before, but now that he was laying on the bed and unbothered, all he felt was cold. He at least said that he was, and gratefully watched the first stranger as he tucked the fairy in with thick blankets. 

Somehow, all Hueningkai wanted was for that person to be nearby. He didn’t understand why, but something about him was so radiant. It reminded him of the prismatic colors on the mirrors of the shrine. Something about him reminded Hueningkai of the weird light and warmth that he’d felt, surrounded by those mirrors and listening to lullabies from the voice in the shrine.

Hueningkai wished he had never fallen asleep on the roof that snowy night. He wished he’d never tried to look for the Guardian. He wished he never knew about his fate, or his own beastliness. The wings he had once considered unique were nothing more than an omen of misfortune.

_ He dreamed of shooting stars and crystal clear waters, just before the dawn. They danced with Hueningkai, sang back to him in the wind when he splashed his feet in the warm waters. That place, where he played with the stars, was meant just for Hueningkai. It filled his chest with happiness, and the stars were so close that Hueningkai could reach his hands out and touch them.They twinkled in a million colors: greens, purples, pinks, and everything in between. When Hueningkai closed his eyes, giggling as they danced around his head, he thought he could feel them kiss all the moles on his cheeks.  _

It was weird. 

The person who saved him was the prince of Evenfaun, and his name was Soobin. He was awkward and thoughtful- just as awkward and thoughtful as Hueningkai. He felt as familiar as the stars, but he wasn’t. 

And he thought Hueningkai’s wings were  _ fascinating _ . 

Hueningkai only ever got compliments from the adults in his life, but even they turned out to betray him. Maybe it was because they had to have been similar enough in age, but Hueningkai thought that Soobin wouldn’t be like that. He was too kind, too gentle with Hueningkai. He treated him regularly- as regular as you’d treat someone who needs a bit of encouragement and recovery. Despite them being strangers, Hueningkai found it easy to trust Soobin. 

Soobin didn’t criticize Hueningkai when he couldn’t finish his food, and he didn’t look at him weirdly when Hueningkai didn’t know how to start the bath in the pretty room down the connected hallway. It was such a huge difference between this place and Avianna, and Soobin seemed to understand it. The prince even took some scissors to his own shirt when Hueningkai sheepishly explained that he wouldn’t be able to fit it around his wings.

“I can rewear my shirt,” Hueningkai insisted, already trying to take the fabric away from the prince’s careful hands. 

“What? No, you can’t,” Soobin frowned. “It’s… I need to take it to get washed.”

The prince was so considerate that Hueningkai found it even more difficult to refuse. Even the small bit of caution around his words, as to not call Hueningkai’s clothes  _ dirty _ was warm in and of itself. 

“But I don’t want you to cut holes in your shirt.” 

The prince just shrugged, gently pulling the fabric back from Hueningkai’s hands. “I don’t wear this anymore. It’s okay.” He didn’t hesitate to ruffle through Hueningkai’s freshly washed hair. They were in the room again, with Hueningkai bundled in a huge fluffy robe after he’d brought the wing dilemma to the prince. His wings were damp, squashed against his back as he sniffled from the lingering sickness.

Hueningkai shuffled on his feet when the prince actually began cutting, only reaching out to point to where he thought the other should stop. “Thanks again,” Hueningkai mumbled once he had the long sleeved shirt back in his hands. The sleeves were long and flowy, and judging from Soobin’s outfit, it must have been an Evenfaun style. Even the softness of the fabric wasn’t enough to put out the embarrassment that Hueningkai felt, for having to ask for help. It was strange to be taken care of so nicely by someone, but Hueningkai also didn’t dislike the attention. 

He practically waddled back to the bathroom to put the shirt on, feeling comfortable in how the sleeves went just past his fingertips. The prince was taller than himself, so it only made sense, and when Hueningkai unfurled his wings through the slits in the back, the fabric didn’t make his joints itchy. 

It felt so much better to be clean of the dried salt from the ocean, and steadily, Hueningkai warmed from the cold.

After some time, when Soobin left the room for a while, mentioning something about bringing fresh linen up for the bed, he had left Hueningkai in front of the fireplace with some ink and paper. The longer that Soobin was gone, the worse that the fairy began to feel. He was drawing something out when his hands started to shake, and Hueningkai constantly turned his head into his shoulder to cough. Eventually, it became too much, the sickness, for him to focus on what he’d drawn, and Hueningkai sat up in front of the fire, bundled in his feathers. It hurt too much- the feeling of ice locked in his fingers. He couldn’t grip the pen without trembling.

Even the new clothes and his wings weren’t enough to insulate Hueningkai properly. 

Hueningkai’s teeth chattered until Soobin returned with arms full of fresh blankets for the bed. He could smell just how nice and clean they were, even from as far into the room as he was.

“Are you alright?” the prince asked over the huge mound of blankets. 

“I’m freezing,” Hueningkai confessed, pulling his wings even tighter.

The prince seemed displeased. He started rushing to fix the bed, and Hueningkai watched from where he was sitting on the floor in front of the fire. He felt terrible that a  _ prince _ was doing something like that for him, but Hueningkai was afraid that his legs would give out underneath himself if he stood to offer some help.

“Here, let’s move you up so you can rest,” Soobin instructed, very carefully cleaning up the drawings that Hueningkai had made. At least he didn’t brush them away or snatch the pen back like the Original had done, Hueningkai thought to himself, doing his best to stand when Soobin assisted him up. 

With Soobin so close, the frost in Hueningkai’s body began melting away. Hueningkai’s brain stuttered, confused at the realization, though it still didn’t make any sense. It felt like he was tethered to the prince somehow, and the moment the other was just close enough, the cold completely disappeared. His eyebrows crinkled.

That was a silly thought. Just because Soobin saved him, that didn’t mean that he was somehow responsible for the taking and going of Hueningkai’s warmth. Whatever these cold and heat flashes were, had to have been a byproduct of that medicine that Hueningkai had drank so early in the morning. 

The prince was incredibly gentle, even readjusting the pillows for Hueningkai’s wings. The blanket that was tossed on his lap was white and oh-so soft. Hueningkai wanted to bury his face into it.

“Hopefully we can get you some of your own winter clothes soon. We’ve gotten a really early snow this year,” Soobin quietly commented, making one last adjustment to the blankets around Hueningkai, who stopped shivering already.

“Winter?” Hueingkai repeated with a frown.

“Yup, it’s just that time anyways,” Soobin answered, watching the window outside. “We didn't have snow stick together until last night.” 

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Hueningkai insisted. “I mean- for it to be winter already? It’s just snow in autumn, right?” He gripped at the soft blanket on his lap, and the feathers behind him ruffled. “It’s hardly October.”

Soobin turned away to face Hueningkai with a concerned expression. Picking up on the other’s discomfort, he lightly shook his head. “Hueningkai…” Soobin called softly, bringing the younger’s near-panicked mind back into focus. “Tomorrow, it’ll be November. How long have you been away from home?” 

Hueningkai was grateful that Soobin was being careful when asking him questions, but it didn’t have him loosening the grip he had on the blanket. “It felt like barely a day,” Hueningkai genuinely answered, instead looking at Soobin with wide eyes. 

The prince chewed on the inside of his cheek. 

“You don’t have to tell me now,” he ultimately said, leaning over to give Hueningkai’s tensed hands a gentle pat. “But eventually… when you want to tell someone about running away, I’ll be here for you.”

Hueningkai let out a shuddering breath in relief. When the other’s touch was long gone from his hands, and Soobin was reading something from an important looking book, sat on that chair beside the bed again, Hueningkai let the silence take his thoughts away.

Here he was, in an unfamiliar place with people who felt familiar. But it could have been worse, right? Hueningkai, not used to life outside the Glades and Avianna, wasn’t sure if he could trust the people here. It was reasonable to think like that, considering that Hueningkai was practically prohibited for all of his younger years to exist anywhere outside of the fae’s boundaries. 

Still, Hueningkai’s heart felt compelled to trust the people in Evenfaun. At least here, the prince Soobin didn’t think of him as a beast. Hueningkai could practically read the honesty in the other’s expressions and actions.

It was strange; Soobin felt like a long lost friend. 

Hueningkai picked at the fuzz on the blanket. That was ridiculous too. They didn’t know each other.

He watched Soobin study, watched as the other twirled some paper around his long fingers. “Is that a winged puma?” He quietly asked.

Soobin looked up from his book. “Huh? Oh, sorry, yeah. It was a gift. Kinda. You can look if you want, just be careful.”

Hueningkai nodded and took the crisply folded paper into his own thin fingers. Turning it around, he inspected the pattern on the glittery paper and immediately his eyes brightened. “This came from Elysia,” he smiled, feeling the sharp creases around the folds of the puma. “They send a whole parade of these down the mountains for alliance day.” 

He held the paper back out toward Soobin, and the other had a fond, yet otherwise unreadable expression on his face. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” the prince said instead, and Hueningkai quickly nodded in agreement. 

The prince was soft spoken, yet entertaining. Between breakfast and lunch, then lunch and dinner, Hueningkai was glad to just sit and listen to the other talk about Evenfaun and his studies. He even enjoyed their conversation about the strange weather. Soobin’s cool and gentle behavior did wonders to Hueningkai’s confusion and fears. He made it feel like everything that was wrong- would simply disappear. 

Between Hueningkai’s sickly coughs, sneezes, and shivers, Soobin was still so kind. It reminded him of home almost, or at least, that fantasy Hueningkai had thought of Avianna to be. 

The best part about spending time with Soobin was that he didn’t question helping Hueningkai. He just did it on his own. He was genuine, and he smiled despite looking so tired. In some way, Hueningkai was ashamed of this; he didn’t want to be anyone’s burden. 

Soobin’s tutor arrived late in the evening, after the two of them were thinking about getting ready for bed. “The Queens want to see you both. It’s nothing formal, they just want to meet Hueningkai.”

Hueningkai looked between the tutor and Soobin’s back that was facing him. From his place, sitting still on the bed, even Hueningkai could tell that they regarded each other as near equals. Hueningkai wondered if their strange magic had anything to do with the fact. They exchanged some quiet words that Hueningkai simply couldn’t catch before Soobin closed the door with a sigh. 

Hueningkai’s wings fluttered uncomfortably. “Is it okay for me to go like this…? What am I supposed to say?” he asked, uncertain about meeting the Queens of Evenfaun. From stories he’d heard in Avianna, these Queens were the most compassionate rules that graced Evenfaun this far. But what would they say to Hueningkai, a runaway monster from the Glades?

“You’re fine just like this, Hueningkai. Nothing bad will happen, so don’t be afraid,” Soobin had soothed, once he’d managed to get the both of them out into the hallway. The prince locked the door with a little symbol of green magic over the doorknob, and turned to Hueningkai with as relaxed of a smile as he could manage. Hueningkai could still see the intensity behind his eyes.

Unsteady on his feet, Soobin escorted the still-recovering Hueningkai down the hallway with a careful hold of the other’s elbow and hand. Hueningkai, being younger than Soobin, was just some inches shorter than the prince, but Soobin walked with such confidence that Hueningkai could have believed it to be even greater. 

It was Hueningkai’s first time seeing anything outside the prince’s room, and in a way, the stark differences between Evenfaun and Avianna were a bit of a culture shock. The hallways were filled with enchanted candles, and the stone that lined the walls looked like it could illuminate on its own. In Avianna, a place where the only roof was the sky, Hueningkai felt enclosed, but not too uncomfortable. 

They walked just slow enough for Hueningkai to see snow falling outside the gigantic windows that lined the hallway, barely visible out there in the dark. He tore his eyes away, remembering how it had snowed the night he had fled the Glades. He didn’t want to remember anything too vividly.

“My mothers have their own floor,” Soobin explained, assisting Hueningkai up a staircase at the end of the hall. Looking up, it seemed to spiral forever and ever. “You can hold onto me more, I promise it’s okay. And the climb isn’t too long either.”

The tips of Hueningkai’s wings dragged against the steps as they took them, one by one. He felt grateful to have someone to hold onto, even if it made his body ache and groan. When things became too much back at Avianna, Hueningkai had always enjoyed having a hand in his own. Just like how he’d held the Original’s hands or skirt when they walked through Avianna, Hueningkai kept his arm locked with Soobin to at least mimic the comfort he’d felt that time before. Admittedly, it was different this time, and Hueningkai felt it in the quick beats of his heart, pulse going strongly in his throat.

“Don’t be afraid of them,” Soobin had said again, once they’d reached some grand set of double doors. The smile on the other’s face was tired and small, but Hueningkai was comforted by the gesture and the slight squeeze of his hand that the other had given him.

When the double doors opened, Hueningkai looked around with wide eyes. The room was big, but not overwhelmingly glamorous. The rug on the floor looked impossibly soft, and further away sat the two Queens on a sofa. They looked comfortable, sitting closely and affectionately chatting with one another. They held hands over one of their knees and shyly, Hueningkai kept his eyes down.

He hadn’t received or really seen so much affection in Avianna, aside from fond hugs or ruffles of the hair. Holding hands and linking arms were a societal norm, but looking so impossibly in love like the Queen did… 

Hueningkai didn’t want to intrude.

“Come closer,” one of the Queens murmured, becoming he and the prince. Her hands looked pretty and soft, as kind as her voice was, but Hueningkai couldn’t find it in himself to make eye contact for too long. Still, his palms began to sweat, and his fingers twitched in the prince’s hold.

When Soobin walked, Hueningkai was just a step behind, and they settled themselves on the fluffy rug just in front of the cozy pair of Queens. Hueningkai couldn’t help but notice how Soobin stood just a bit in front of Hueningkai, like the other’s shoulder was clipping over his own, but the cover was well-appreciated for Hueningkai’s nerves. 

“Hello, Hueningkai,” one queen gently smiled, holding her hand for the fairy to take. “You’re a little far from home, aren’t you?”

Hueningkai’s shoulders tensed before he bravely took her ringed fingers in his unoccupied hand as a greeting. It wasn’t his imagination when he felt Soobin hold him a little more firmly. “Just a little bit,” Hueningkai answered, clearing his throat when the words came out hoarse. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

His hand was released and the Queens giggled, making Hueningkai’s ears burn hotly. He begged that they weren’t giggling about how he fumbled with his scratchy-sick voice right in front of Evenfaun’s leaders. Belatedly, he saw the Queens look at his and the prince’s clasped hands and in panic, loosened his grip. 

Soobin seemed to refuse that and kept his eyes on the Queens while keeping Hueningkai’s hand solidly in his own. Hueningkai looked up at him, noticing the serious sheen over his eyes. 

“Relax, Soobinnie,” one of the Queens fondly murmured. She looked to Hueningkai that time, cocking her head a little bit. “We actually wanted to extend an invite to this curious fairy here.”

“To stay here?” Soobin quickly asked, expression immediately lightening, but Hueningkai could see the confusion in his face just as it was on his own. 

“We think it would be in Hueningkai’s best interest to make Evenfaun a permanent residence. We also understand it’s a difficult decision for someone so young to make.”

“I don’t want to go back to Avianna,” Hueningkai bravely said again. He wished for his voice to come out as firmly as he believed in his own statement.

One of the Queens sympathetically nodded, but fixed Hueningkai with a questioning look of her own. “Whether you’d like to stay in Evenfaun or not… the ruler of Avianna has been looking everywhere for you, frantically so.”

Shocked, Hueningkai blinked. Was the Original really that worried about him? Shouldn’t he have been glad that his beautiful forest was free of a beast like Hueningkai? Now that he was out of their hands, couldn’t they live regularly and normally? Unless, they wanted to take care of Hueningkai themselves. If they really wanted Hueningkai gone for good, it would make sense for them to do it with their own hands.

“But when he comes here, as no doubt he will, you will have to tell him your decision and he will have to accept it.”

Hueningkai’s blood felt like it was running cold, and he looked at the floor again, already fearing the worst. If the Original arrived and saw that Hueningkai had made it out of the Glades alive- that Hueningkai had this extremely brief sense of freedom aside from the fear, the water, the cold, the pain… what would he do to Hueningkai?

“If you don’t want to return to Avianna,” Soobin’s soothing voice cut the silence, “then you’ll be under our care. The ruler can’t refuse that. We’ll respect you and honor and protect your decision, Hueningkai.” 

That night, Hueningkai couldn’t stay asleep. Soobin had been instructed by his parents to offer Hueningkai the free room in Soobin’s section of their home. Unlike Soobin’s room, it was plain and obviously hadn’t been touched in ages by anyone. The room was kept clean and generally empty, save for the furniture and dresser filled with only winter blankets. Even tucked in as Hueningkai was, in a long sleeved nightshirt that Soobin had once again needed to adjust for him, Hueningkai felt the cold and fear seep into his bones.

The dark never used to scare Hueningkai. The fireplace was lit in an attempt to keep the room warm, but Hueingkai eyed every shadow on the wall like the Original would emerge from its darkness. Even worse, maybe the Guardian would sneak out from the corners and reach for Hueningkai’s throat as he’d done to the other beast before. 

It only became colder and colder. Hueningkai shuddered and trembled beneath the blankets, becoming delirious from the numbing cold and his paranoia. Even his feathers, pressed so tightly against himself, couldn’t retain any heat. Why did the cold make it feel as if his skin were burning? 

Hueningkai squeezed his eyes shut and begged for his body to comply and just retain its warmth. He hadn’t felt this cold all day- he hadn’t felt this cold or as in pain as he was since that strange someone had left him on the grass for Soobin to find.

The prince, Soobin.

He had been so warm. Just the memory of it was fake bliss to the violently shivering Hueningkai. He’d seen how exhausted the prince was though, he couldn’t bother Soobin anymore for something stupid like this. It was already embarrassing enough to be such a liability. Hueningkai didn’t understand why his internal frost melted away whenever Soobin was around, but thought it had something to do with the medicine he’d been taking, or that green magic that he’d seen last night.

Hueningkai had to endure it. There was no other option.

He coiled the thick blankets tightly around himself and shivered until the cold set him to sleep.

By morning, Hueningkai was no longer cold again. He had been disoriented at first, waking up to a knock at the door. Being stuck, completely tangled up on the bed, he’d let out a weak “come in” to whoever was there. Hueningkai grunted, trying to at least poke his head over the huge mass of pillows and blankets. 

“I brought medicine,” the prince’s voice called into the room, just as Hueningkai had managed to poke his head properly up. “Oh,” the other smiled, obviously trying not to laugh. “Sorry if I woke you.”

“It’s fine,” Hueningkai reassured with a sniffle. It was snowing again today; he could see the massive clumps making shadows as they passed by the big windows. Hueningkai sat himself up in bed, unfurling his sore wings from how they’d been tightly cocooning his body.

Soobin was setting a tray onto the bedside table, and curiously, Hueningkai bent to look. Just like yesterday, the tray was piled with food, no doubtedly meaning that the prince was planning on sitting to have breakfast with him. The smell of the hot soup on the tray had Hueningkai’s stomach growling, and he pitifully whined when the prince had laughed under his breath at it. 

“Go ahead and eat. They said to take the medicine after eating though- that it won’t upset your stomach that way.”

Hueningkai felt silly with all the blankets still on his lap, and he pushed them down to make some space, lookin at Soobin sheepishly as a result. “Umm, thank you. I could’ve gone to get breakfast, really- I mean, I can do it next time. I’m feeling better already.”

It was like the prince didn’t know if he should humor Hueningkai’s lie or not as he hummed and warily looked at the pile of blankets. Hueningkai stiffened, seeing as Soobin turned to the fireplace and then again to look at Hueningkai’s sick flushed face. “Recovery can take some time,” he said cautiously. “It’s okay to not be fully recovered in just one night. Were you cold overnight, by the way?”

When the price handed Hueningkai the bowl of vegetable soup, the fairy didn’t hesitate to take it into his hands. The ceramic felt just warm and perfect on Hueningkai’s still sore palms. “I kept the fire on but was a little cold,” he admitted, immediately tensing when Soobin’s face fell, “But it’s okay! They were just fever sweats.”

He didn’t mention the deep ache in his muscles or the painful inhales of cold air into his shaky lungs. Soobin didn’t need to know any of that.

It happened every night. When it was especially late and the moon cast her beams onto the white snow outside, Hueningkai would wake up choking from the cold and shivering in pain underneath all the blankets. When it became too much to bear, Hueningkai would fall asleep and wake up as if his soul hadn’t been set to freeze overnight. He endured the pain in the mornings, lying when Soobin asked how he was feeling. He knew the other didn’t believe him- but Soobin was too nice to question it. 

Like an antidote, it was as if the prince’s mere presence scared the cold away. Hueningkai tried not to seem too desperate, following Soobin around the hallways since he’d been given permission to explore the royal home. They encouraged Hueningkai to navigate the library and kitchens, and he was even allowed to sit in with Soobin’s lessons, though he often ended up pillowed by his wings, fast asleep. It was the only thing the fairy could do though, to stay warm.

“Are you just getting fond of me?” Soobin joked one evening after dinner, the both of them sitting together in the library. The prince was studying something complicated and Hueningkai was more or less reading some book on seasonal plants that was putting him to sleep. “I can tell you aren’t really that interested in botany.” 

Hueningkai huffed, rightfully closing the book as Soobin laughed through his nose. “Mm, just a little bit,” he joked back, pushing the book forward onto the desk that they were sharing. In the cozy library, they shared a blanket over their laps too, something to keep them warm in a place that had a million and one glass windows. Even the ceiling was some kind of pretty glass, showing a story about the constellations hanging high above. Hueningkai stretched his arms in front of himself. “I don’t have a green thumb anyways… I can admire nature up close and not mess with it, is what I mean.”

The prince seemed pleased with Hueningkai’s answer, closing the book he had also been reading. “You know… we can find something that interests you? There’s some myth books here that are more exciting too. At least, more exciting than plant physiology?” 

Hueningkai, still just a teenager and doing the best that he could in an unfamiliar situation, only gave Soobin a little shrug, letting his wings dangle behind himself until they spilled off the seat and onto the floor. “That sounds fun to read,” he’d answered, crossing his arms on the table and laying his head onto them to look at Soobin. 

The prince was like a friend. It had only been a week since knowing each other, but Soobin made it so easy to get along with. He didn’t mind that Hueningkai followed him around. When they talked, it was just as comfortable as when they were silent. If everyone in Evenfaun were like this… Hueningkai was definitely never returning back to Avianna. 

“And… I’m sorry for falling asleep all the time.”

Soobin shook his head. “I don’t mind. Isn’t this kind of a good place to relax?”

“In a library?”

“The windows and the books,” Soobin said, gesturing out in front of them, “and the blankets and candles. It’s warm.” 

Hueningkai watched as small dimples appeared on Soobin’s cheeks. “Mmhm, really warm,” he agreed.

“I’ve taken naps here too, but that was a little different, I guess.”

The fairy blinked curiously at Soobin, catching something small and sad in his expression. “For me,” Hueningkai cautiously added, “I think it’s the company too that helps me sleep.”

That seemed to be the right thing to say, judging by how clear Soobin’s expression became. “I get what you mean,” the prince reassured with a hum. “In Avianna, did you have a lot of company? I’m assuming since you said it helps with sleeping and all?”

“Ah, no actually,” Hueningkai confessed, sitting up properly and playing with the cuffs of his too-long sleeves. They had gotten a seamstress to help Hueningkai be fitted for clothes of his own, but that it wouldn’t be ready until the next week. In the meanwhile, he was still wearing more professionally altered clothes from Soobin. “I wasn’t allowed into Avianna much. I stayed at a place called the Glades, a little outside of Avianna.”

Soobin nodded, genuinely listening, and that made Hueningkai feel much more invited to share his experiences. In a way, it felt like the two had made that emotional connection. “Usually, it’s just me by myself here. Sometimes, someone visits and I can have company, but it can go months before there’s someone for me to talk to again, so… I’ve missed the company until now too.”

Hueningkai was relieved. Soobin was just like him then; a little bit different, a little bit trapped, a little bit lonely.

“I’ll remember that, when I have to choose between sneaking to the kitchen or bothering you in the library,” Hueningkai grinned, feathers ruffling happily when Soobin laughed.

“Yeah, alright,” Soobin shrugged in feigned-indifference. “Do what you want!”

Things couldn’t remain fun forever.

Namjoon, Soobin’s tutor and a mysterious person that Hueningkai could often see ducking around corners in the long, dark hallways, was absolutely astounded over Hueningkai’s rather slow recovery.

He came to check on Hueningkai personally from time to time, and just like the first night that they’d met, Hueningkai couldn’t shake the feeling of deja vu. Had he met this guy somewhere before?

“I don’t mean this as a personal attack or an ego thing,” Namjoon prefaced with a deep frown, “but my magic should have righted you overnight. The first night.”

Hueningkai sheepishly nodded along, burying apologies on his tongue so they wouldn’t make it out of his mouth. He bit his cheek every time- about the bitter colds he felt every night, and how he endured the shivers and pain all alone every time. In the mornings, Hueningkai immediately dragged himself into hot baths in an attempt to stay warm. Nothing really helped, at least not until Soobin came to greet him.

He couldn’t tell the tutor. It was too strange of a scenario. It was bizarre, and Hueningkai was tired of troubling people. 

But on that night, it was unbearable.

_ “Our Hueningie… how beautiful are your wings,” someone cooed, and Hueningkai bashfully shook his head. _

_ “They’re blank,” he said, raising his wings up to take a better look at them. “See?” _

_ “Only for now,” the person reassured. “Your flame will color your wings one day. Remember like we said? The dawn and the stars are best friends, and they will give you a flame.” _

_ “Mmhm,” Hueningkai hummed, reaching out for the other’s hand to take. “The Dawn makes the fire and the stars power the Dawn.” _

_ “Good birdy,” the person chuckled again, walking with Hueningkai along the shore. The sand and water felt incredible on Hueningkai’s bare feet. “And you will always have your fire this way.” _

Hueningkai’s entire body trembled.

The ice in his blood made it feel as if glass shards were inching up his veins. His joints were locked, even from the moment that Hueningkai opened his eyes, and all he could even see were blue-green shimmers like a filter over his foggy eyes. The fire cast strange shadows on the wall and Hueningkai gasped when he felt them come closer and closer.

He couldn’t handle it- couldn’t fight the numbing cold in his fingers and toes, and rolled out of the bed with as much strength as he could gather. Clutching the blankets tightly around himself, Hueningkai stood on his shaky feet. 

Why was the room spinning? Hueningkai gasped for air, squeezing his eyes shut when every inhale stabbed his lungs with its frost. The green specks were too dazzling in his eyes, twinkling even behind Hueningkai’s eyelids. 

He staggered out of the room, still dragging the blankets with him. The fire cast an orange glow into the hallway, just enough that Soobin’s door was illuminated down the hall. The stone walls seemed to pulse in intervals of pink stretched on and on, and Hueningkai leaned against the hypnotizing cold stone for balance. There was a symphony in Hueningkai’s ears, forcing him to sway this way and that, and the blankets around his shoulders felt like it was pulling him into the floor.

His lips were dry. The needles of cold shot along his joints; Hueningkai hardly realized he’d fallen onto his knees. “Soobin-hyung,” he whispered, reaching for the prince’s bedroom door, but found it firmly locked. 

Green swirled in Hueningkai’s eyes and even blinking didn't clear the fog. What was the key again? What was the rune? Hueningkai couldn’t remember. It was too cold, it was too painful. He leaned against the wall again, curling his knees up to his chest. He could see his frosted breath in the air with every exhale. 

Maybe it would be better to just rest right here. 

_ “This crest is something you’ll learn to admire.” _

_ Hueningkai felt the fabric of the proud banner in his hands. “Why is it this?” he asked, tracing his fingers over the embroidered wings. The feathers, orange, red, and yellow, were stitched in vibrant thread. _

_ “Before the Isles, there was only a great fire. To control the fire and its power, it split into the dragons and us.” _

Hueningkai’s dazed eyes opened when he felt warm hands on his face. He wanted to close his eyes and feel the sandy shores under his feet again. He wanted the embroidered banner in his hands. 

Wait, what did that banner look like again?

The dream slipped on by as he became more conscious, and Hueningkai moaned from the sudden rush of blood back into his mind. Just like before, he found himself covered in that green magic.

“-you okay? Hueningkai- Hueningkai!”

Hueningkai’s body couldn’t respond. He wanted to cry out, but all he could manage from his throat were painful whimpers. Whatever god of frost that had tormented Hueningkai last night had made it so that every inch of his body ached in pain. He and his blankets were both frantically moved somewhere else again.

Why was that green magic everywhere? Was this a punishment for running away? 

Hueningkai just wanted to live.

He held onto the prince’s hand as the ice in his veins steadily began to thaw, and he wondered if he brought a curse of misfortune with him here to Evenfaun that even Soobin’s warmth couldn’t dispel. 

Those damned wings.

The morning came in a rush.

“Hueningkai? I’m really sorry, I know you’re sick but-” the prince urgently nudged the fairy’s shoulder with his palms, “we have to get ready,  _ now _ . Quickly, please.”

Hueningkai groaned. Although his body was once again warm to his core, it felt like he’d been trampled over or that one of the biggest trees in Avianna had crushed him overnight. Blearily cracking his eyes open in confusion, Hueningkai was at least glad to see that the green haze was no longer twinkling in his periphery. “What?” he continued to blink, promptly turning his head over the bed to cough and wheeze, eyes burning with tears when his dry throat wouldn’t let up.

There was a hand on his back, above his wings and rubbing gently before Hueningkai even knew it. When Hueningkai was done blinking the tears away from his eyes and breathing shakily without coughing, the prince offered him some water from a cup off the bedside table. Hueningkai tried not to look at the other’s concerned face, instead drinking when Soobin brought it up to his lips. 

“We have to go soon,” Soobin said again, still as urgent but obviously more concerned about Hueningkai’s wellbeing than whatever thing it was that they had to go do. “Are you- are you okay? Can you take this medicine for me, Hueningkai?”

Leaning heavily on one elbow, but steadied by Soobin, Hueningkai quickly nodded his head, taking whatever it was that the prince had given him. The medicine this time was strangely sweet, whereas the other times he’d taken medicine, it was practically tasteless. “What was that?” he asked through his scratchy throat.

“It’s a potion for the fevers,” Soobin frowned. “I asked Namjoon hyung if he could change it a little. It usually tastes like bitter root…”

He wanted to dwell on his thoughtful Soobin was, but before he had the chance, the prince was already leaving his side, fussing around something. “We really have to get going though. I’ll help you walk there, we can take our time, but as soon as possible would be good,” he explained, helping Hueningkai to properly sit up with his legs over the side of the bed.

Huh. When had Hueningkai gotten into the prince’s room last night?

“What’s going on?” Hueningkai asked, desperate as his eyes cleared and he could finally judge the situation he was in. The frantic nature of the otherwise calm prince was making him scared. “What happened?”

Soobin frowned, biting the inside of his cheek. “They’re coming to see you, from Avianna, and I have to get you ready.”

That was a sobering realization, at least for Hueningkai who gripped the bed like he’d put up a fight if Soobin forced him to leave it. “No,” he breathed, tightening his fingers around the bedsheet. Had the Guardian finally come to collect him already? He trembled in fear. “No, no no I can’t go back to Avianna, I can’t!” 

The prince looked at Hueningkai like he’d grown a second head. In his protective cocoon of white feathers that Hueningkai didn’t even know he’d pulled around himself, he could only see deep into Soobin’s eyes, peeking at him through a gap. 

“Breathe with me. You aren’t going back, I promise,” the prince had said, putting his hands again on Hueningkai’s shoulders, rubbing the bone with his thumb as he exaggeratedly breathed in and out for Hueningkai to follow.

Hueningkai hadn’t realized that he was practically gulping in air until the prince was reminding him again how to  _ breathe _ . Through the feathers, peering up at Soobin with his own teary eyes, Hueningkai brought his hands up to hold Soobin’s wrists, feeling comforted by even that small touch.

“This moment is real, let’s think about it together, slowly,” the prince suggested, voice quieter now that Hueningkai had managed to regulate his breathing again. Soobin removed his hands from Hueningkai’s shoulders, and the fairy found his fingers in the other’s palms instead. “Good job, Hueningkai. You’re not going back to Avianna. They’ve come to say goodbye. We’re going to tell them you want to stay.”

Speechless, Hueningkai merely nodded his head, feeling the tension seep out of his shoulders. His cheeks felt wet, but the thumbs running over his knuckles felt nice. Steadily, Hueningkai came back into focus, staring at their hands in exhaustion. “I’m sorry.”

“No need. I’ll be with you when the ruler comes. Let’s get dressed and when the day finishes, we’ll stay in the library for the rest of the day.”

The prince was brave. He was confident in what he told Hueningkai, still a young boy with a lot left to learn. Even if the brave front that Soobin gave was nothing more than just that, a front, it was so believable that Hueningkai’s fear and worry became quieter in his mind. The puffed up feathers began to relax against his back again. Hueningkai wished he had some of that bravery. He wanted everyone to get alone; he wanted a happy ending too.

When he closed his eyes for just a second, the image of that shining silver arrow, cutting through the frosty air, played over and over again.

No, the arrow had missed him. Hueningkai had never gotten hurt from an arrow. He was here, warm in Evenfaun.

Hueningkai nodded, letting go of Soobin’s hands so that he could take whatever clothes the older had left for him and get them on, after Soobin had left the room to give Hueningkai a little bit of privacy. He felt silly for freaking out like that, but he felt dread in his stomach at the realization that the things he worried about could as well be true. If the Original decided to kill him on the spot, Hueningkai wouldn't be surprised. 

They walked just as they had done when the Queens called for them just over a week ago. The snow outside had piled up considerably since then, and the still snowing, gray sky provided no comfort. The casual touch of Soobins hand in his at least made up for that. 

The hallways became less stone and more like glass, as if the Royals’ home were a greenhouse. The ceilings suddenly vaulted, and had it not been for the insulation and levitating greenery, Hueningkai would have thought that they were outside. For a place known for its gorgeous lake, Hueningkai was surprised to see that they had something for natural aesthetics and the land. It was a relief to Hueningkai in a way. It had that feeling of freedom.

Even as every nerve of his was on high alert, fingers twitching again in Soobin’s sweet hold, he didn’t want to change his mind. Even if he had loved his nights under the open sky and flying freely over the Glades and creeks, whispering to the water his secrets and loneliness, Hueningkai could never return to Avianna after seeing what the Guardian had done to the beast like him.

When they opened the door to the grand front room, the tiles glimmered in golden dust. Standing there at the end of the room, towering over the two casual looking Queens, was the Original in a state that Hueningkai had never seen before. 

The flowers in his hair were withered and flaking, and as he sharply turned to Hueningkai and Soobin, Hueningkai gasped. Where the whites of the Original’s eyes had been were instead replaced with swirling gold. Two extra eyes, slightly higher up on the Original’s face blinked in sorrow, just as deeply as the white markings that went down the Original’s honey skin like tear streaks.

It scared Hueningkai frozen, to see the normally dainty and precious Original as deranged and gigantic as he was. His nails looked like talons, and his teeth looked like fangs. He practically took up all of the room space, swallowing the place in mournful vines that had crept, rotten and dark green along the thoroughly fairy-dusted floor.

“Hueningkai,” the Original cried, though his voice sounded distorted as it came out of his mouth. The Original moved in a flash, talon-like arm becoming a blur as it raced through the air toward Hueningkai, and Hueningkai quickly gasped, bringing his arms up to protect himself.

The rush of air that came as a result from the Original’s lashing out had sent Hueningkai onto the floor, unstable from his earlier pain. He gripped the tile but found it slippery with golden fairy dust, and Hueningkai’s ears rang with the noise of a collision just above his head. The fairy dust clung to Hueningkai’s wings and body, and desperately, Hueningkai kept his eyes squeezed shut.

The hurt never came, the pain never came. After that loud bang had made Hueningkai’s ears ring, the room went uncomfortably silent.

When Hueningkai gathered enough courage to open his eyes, he saw green everywhere.

Shimmering and twinkling like something pure, huge green hands held back the Original’s talons, and there was the prince, arms outstretched and strained, holding the claws back. From Hueningkai’s frightened bundle on the floor, he could see the dried and withered vines on the Original’s massive wrist as well as the pure pain and despair on his face.

“Hueningkai,” the Original pitifully cried, giant tears cascading from his golden eyes and following the white tear tracks down his cheeks as Hueningkai wordlessly watched. “D-Don’t be afraid of me, I- I wasn’t going to  _ hurt _ you.”

And with that, the Original began to shrink in size, back into the petite person that Hueningkai had been raised by, but the rotting flowers and vines remained in the room.

Soobin cautiously lowered his hands and the much larger projection of them fizzled into nothing. Hueningkai was helped off of his feet by him, and in their closeness, Hueningkai could see the sweat on the prince’s forehead.

“It’s not the right time for you to leave,” the Original attempted to bargain, practically begging as his eyes flit between the four others in the room. “Let’s please go home, Hueningie.”

Hueningkai didn’t know where to focus. He had never seen the true extent to the Original’s fae abilities. The Original looked miserable now, clutching the pretty pendant at his throat, and his pouty lips were still wobbling. Hueningkai stood up straight but watched with uncertainty in his eyes.

“I… I can’t.”

The Original had crumpled, shoulders sagging as he wiped his face with his hands. “We knew it would happen,” the Original stuttered through his cries. “This second chance.”

The Queens, who had been standing strongly at the end of the hall, both placed a hand on the fae’s shoulder, sympathetic in a way that Hueningkai didn’t understand. Through all of that, Soobin firmly kept Hueningkai at his side. 

“I can’t force you to do anything,” the Original added, and one of the vines at Hueningkai’s feet bloomed a massive flower, and there inside was that golden cloak that he had been given in the Glades. 

Hueningkai remembered throwing it off of himself as he’d run away. He remembered how he regarded it so preciously before impulsively running away.

“I’m so sorry, Hueningie,” the Original’s voice wobbled, thick with tears as Hueningkai reached out to take the pretty fabric again. “There is a journey meant for you, only in some time. Your guardian and I… we are so, so sorry to have frightened you.”

Soobin was watching Hueningkai.

Everyone was watching Hueningkai.

Hueningkai watched the cloak in his hands, chest seizing. 

“I don’t understand,” he quietly frowned. “But I forgive you.”

The Original let out a shuddering, wet sigh before addressing the Queens and the prince. “He’s so young,” he explained, as if he were mourning something for Hueningkai. “Now that he’s met your starlit son, you- prince,” he pitifully muttered, taking dragging steps toward Soobin and Hueningkai.

Hueningkai’s young heart ached. The Original wasn’t here to kill him, and although he didn’t entirely trust the ruler of Avianna as he once had, his heart continued to ache for him.

“You are made of pure starlight,” he spoke to Soobin directly. “Now that Hueningkai is in your care… he relies on your starlight to survive. Even distance will cause his flame to burn out, so please. Please watch over my baby bird.”

“I’ll take care of him, I promise,” Soobin confidently said, though obviously troubled by the Original’s emotional state and equally as confused by the cryptic talk as Hueningkai was. 

Hueningkai had once always been alone, flying over beautiful Glades and resting high in the trees to admire Avianna from a distance. Maybe the Original wasn’t perfect, but Hueningkai, through his confusion, could feel a connection to the vulnerable heart of the person who raised him.

He released Soobin’s arm and wrapped the golden cloak around himself. One last time, he approached the Original for a hug, so impossibly fond and firm that it made Hueningkai’s eyes misty as well.

“I can’t tell you what this is about,” the Original had whispered. “And I’m so sorry.”

“Please say goodbye to the shrine for me, for now,” Hueningkai sighed, squeezing his eyes shut again to take in this last embrace. He was beginning a new life in Evenfaun, one that would hopefully make sense. He would do it on his own terms, in this freedom, and craft his own friends and relationships outside of the Glades and Avianna. 

Whatever had happened in the Glades that one night, it was time to bury.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter recap:
> 
> After falling into the ocean, Hueningkai is saved by a mysterious someone who leaves him on a shore to be found by Soobin. Hueningkai, between falling and being found, has dreams that feel like memories, though he quickly forgets them once he wakes up. He's sickly from the cold and unable to regulate his body, no matter how much he tries. Soobin seems to be a key player in keeping Hueningkai warm. On the first day in Evenfaun, Hueninkai and Soobin meet the Queens, who invite Hueningkai to stay in Evenfaun permanently for some reason. They inform Hueningkai that the Original has been desperately looking for him since the night he'd run away. Hueningkai learns that it has been a month since he had run away, though it only felt like a single day. 
> 
> Throughout a week, Hueningkai's health has its ups and downs and he makes a friendly connection with Soobin. He seems to become the most sickly late at night, and his lack of recovery leaves even Namjoon confused. One night, he's unable to stand the cold and collapses in front of the prince's room. In the morning, he finds himself inside Soobin's room, being rushed awake. The Original is here to see him, and Hueningkai has a panic attack at the implications of his visit. Soobin comforts him into a more stable state of mind and together they go meet the Original, who is with the Queens.
> 
> The Original has become scary and deranged, taking on a different form. When he begs for Hueningkai to go home, Hueningkai refuses, which the Original mournfully respects. He returns the cloak that Hueningkai had thrown off himself on the night he had run away and leaves a warning to the Queens and prince of Evenfaun.
> 
> The Original tells them that the prince is made of starlight and that Hueningkai can't survive without the starlight's flame. Soobin has to remain close, or else Hueningkai's life will flicker just as a weak flame does. 
> 
> That's it! Follow me on twt for intermittent updates lol. This was one hefty chapter ^^;;


	6. Taehyun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since these months that he’d spent with Beomgyu, living with him, learning about him, navigating the book’s special spell together, Taehyun felt so… normal.
> 
> He felt normal, and free.
> 
> [Read chapter notes for content warnings]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It's @soobimoroll from twitter again. Sorry this took a while. As you can see, it's quite a hefty chapter. On my pinned tweet for Safe in the Garden, you can find my map, and this will take place at key #5 and briefly at #1.
> 
> BEFORE YOU READ >> warnings for this chapter:  
> Abandonment, very very MINOR character death, non-graphic hand lashings, mentions of dissociation, mild cursing, and brief mentions of blood.
> 
> Please read cautiously! If you'd like a full summary in the event the warnings prevent you from reading, leave me a comment and I'll gladly provide that for you.
> 
> One last note: As far as timelines go, this chapter ends the same time that Chapter 1 ends, so it's a bit of "history" in a way.

Taehyun wished he knew just how his parents had learned about the Circus. If he did, maybe they wouldn’t have left him at the ringleader’s feet in exchange for hefty bags of gold. He wished that he could have been a regular child who didn’t blank out for minutes, even hours at a time, images flashing behind his eyelids that he just didn’t understand. 

They had been comforting at first; all parents were supposed to be comforting at first. When Taehyun woke with nightmares about the family, about something dreadful coming, and an over looming danger in their little house in Evenfaun, he’d be comforted by his parents and pillowed on their laps until it was all over. It started with innocent things, like Taehyun seeing the shattered glass on the floor before his mom had accidentally knocked her favorite flower vase off of the windowsill. Sometimes, he saw what stalls would be open at the farmers market before anyone else would be able to see it the following day.

It was innocent.

Taehyun was a child, and his parents thought of his ability to “see” as a mere coincidence: nothing more than childish imagination. There on the outskirts of Evenfaun, north of the magical lake that Taehyun had never been able to see, the strange ability that Taehyun had, slowly became a curse.

He saw the passing of the neighbors, he saw the fire before anyone else, but they didn’t believe it. How could they believe a ten year old child? What merit did he have? The adults didn’t want to believe that Taehyun saw it before it happened. He was just another boy, crying wolf to them.

He saw the flood before everyone else did, and although Taehyun begged for someone to just listen, they didn’t use their magic to make the necessary canals. On that day, Taehyun remembered holding onto branches in a tree as the flood took the neighborhood out with it, washing everyone away with the mud and dirt until the loose rocks of the mountain came and covered what used to be home.

Taehyun remembered. How could he have forgotten it? They begged him to stop seeing, to stop imagining these things as they always came true. What had ruined their little neighborhood, just a rural thing away from the capital, it must have been Taehyun’s fault. He stared blankly at the bleary constellations in the sky, too far away, not present enough to witness real time.

The future was uncertain and terrifying. Taehyun was no longer comforted by his parents anymore. They’d rather have nothing to do with him at all. Not after he foretold death and pain. Taehyun was an unwanted curse. He was a cursed child with the deepest red magic among their beautiful magenta, and he didn’t belong.

He didn’t cry when he was abandoned. His parents didn’t stay long enough after receiving the money, for Taehyun to have a moment to consider what was going on. The ringleader dragged him by the wrist toward the unclaimed mountain that was just too far out of Elysia’s constant patrol and just not close enough for the Evenfaun authorities to watch. 

The land was littered in rogues, and the Circus served as a strange meeting place for their enjoyment.

The ringleader at first wasn’t malicious to Taehyun. He had gotten him acquainted with how things worked at the Circus, and how the money that they earned would go toward sustaining all of them. The people there were a little odd; Taehyun had never met someone with four eyes before, but their ripped wings screamed Avianna in a way that Taehyun didn’t want to point out. It was too personal. 

“You need to get a grip on your sight,” the ringleader had told Taehyun, just a kid. “You can’t space out for hours and expect to make money that way, kid. That’s not how things work around here. You have to earn your share.”

“I don’t know how to do it,” Taehyun said, wide eyed and confused. The visions came and went whenever they felt like it. He couldn’t just command them to appear. Like a phantom, they haunted Taehyun at any moment of the day, at any moment of the night. 

Since being abandoned by his family. Taehyun saw less and less. 

He feared what would happen if the ringleader found out that he didn’t have a skill to earn money with. In his own tent, Taehyun didn’t cry. He curled himself tightly into a ball and wished for all of this to have been a dream. All the disasters and curses in his life came from the visions, and maybe if he stopped seeing them entirely, he could live normally as a young boy should.

_ The room was filled with mirrors.  _

_ When Taehyun stepped curiously inside, he could see warm light at the far end, and the double doors behind him shut with a soft thud that resonated off of the walls.  _

_ “Hello?” he called, looking deeper inside. There was a blanket abandoned on the floor, stray feathers collecting dust in the corners of the room. As he peeked through the room and the mirrors looked as if they shifted around, prismatic light shone into the clear reflection, seemingly piercing through the glass itself. _

_ When Taehyun reached out to touch, he realized that the mirrors weren’t solid at all. _

_ The light flickered at him, illuminating some place behind the mirrors, and stepping past the threshold, he could hear a soft tune whistled from deep within the strange room. _

_ “Taehyun-ah. I have something to show you that’ll help. Watch carefully,” a silky, deep voice echoed off the walls.  _

_ The room became empty, but the warm light illuminated a deck of cards on a low table.  _

_ “We are the same. When I was younger, I wish someone was able to help me understand what it was like to see. I won’t need to explain it; you’ll know how to use them.” _

_ Taehyun knelt beside the table, looking at the pretty cards, lined in gold and with strange symbols that he’d never seen before. It seemed like a language so ancient that they made pictures. Picking them up in his hands, his red magic consumed the cards and the faces shimmered into dancing images and a person that he didn’t know. _

_ “Take good care of these,” one of the cards said to him, mouth moving along with the voice in the empty hall. _

When Taehyun awoke, he was clutching the cards tightly against his chest. 

The ringleader didn’t ask any questions. The sooner that Taehyun could make use of his talent, the sooner they would bring in money. As expected of Taehyun, advertised as some kind of fortune teller, the popularity of the Circus was undeniably due to him. Sad, sick fools traveled to the Circus to hear what Taehyun had to say about their pitiful lives.

They wanted fortune, they wanted fame. They wanted everything and more. The greed was disgusting, and as Taehyun had grown accustomed to the people who would pay large sums for more intense readings from Taehyun’s mysterious cards, the more that he grew to detest the Circus and the people who came to see him. Anything that breathed was selfish, and Taehyun became a resentful teenager in his decorated booth. 

“Something despairing is coming,” Taehyun had said boredly, turning over a card on the table. He was dressed exquisitely for the performance, long sleeves delicately dragging across the counter tops as he continued to look at the pulled cards.

The man in front of him fidgeted on his chair. The illuminated candles and crystals in the room were there to add to the suspense or something like that- at least that was what Taehyun had been told by the ringleader. From underneath Taehyun’s veil, he was just grateful that his patrons couldn’t actually see his expression properly. “I see something tragic.”

His client nervously pitched forward, trying to understand the cards that left Taehyun’s delicate hands. Even here, at the well-hidden Circus, desperate people came looking for Taehyun’s insight. They paid pretty pennies for the freak child, the one with eyes that could see more than anyone else. “What is it?” the man asked, obviously confused by the strange symbols on the cards.

It made Taehyun want to laugh. The clients always tried to look, but it was foolish of them to try and understand. The ancient language had been spoken into Taehyun’s mind that night, and the pictures and symbols on the gold lined cards were something that only he could understand. It was as if the oldest stars in the sky assisted Taehyun in properly seeing. Now at thirteen, the cards had become Taehyun’s entire life.

“A woman,” Taehyun answered, bringing one card closer to his own face. Red magic sparkled along its edge like a flame, and Taehyun intensely watched the vision on the card for a few seconds. The movements on the face were clear. “With a man who isn’t you. She wears pearls on her neck and fingers, but takes them off when you’re around.”

Taehyun didn’t flinch as the man lashed out and clutched Taehyun’s collar with his fist. “Don’t lie to me!” he screamed, shaking Taehyun around, who only grimaced and turned his head away from the man’s spit. “I asked you one question about her- not about this shit!” 

The man slammed his other fist onto the table, spilling the cards out from their decorative case, and Taehyun hissed at the mess. “You already knew she was cheating,” Taehyun sharply cut through the man’s rage, snatching another card up from the table. Just as before, it erupted in red magic, the flames licking up the sides of his fingers. With each statement, the man became more and more agitated, standing up so harshly that his chair flew backwards. “And right now-” Taehyun said, snatching up one last card. “If you hurry, you can see it with your own-”

“Enough!”

The table flipped over as the man roared, sending Taehyun’s precious cards to the floor.

“I didn’t come here to hear your bullshit, kid!”

“Then what did you come here to hear?”

Taehyun’s fortune telling tent was popular in the rogue and exiled population. He had a knack for accuracy, which was what his parents had feared when they sold him to the Circus. Taehyun thought that this was the best life he could have at least, even as much as he detested his parents and thought of them as pitiful for abandoning him. Having a cursed child… Taehyun would have given up on himself too. 

But the ringleader didn’t care what happened to Taehyun and didn’t care what Taehyun did within his booth; as long as the money kept coming in, he would keep being housed and fed. Sometimes, he imagined this job as something like playing dress up, back when he was younger. It was all part of the show, to wear the pretty veils and jewels and rings that were probably stolen by the ringleader and given to Taehyun at some point. The Circus worked under the noses of the officials and especially under the law. In Taehyun’s simple three years there, he tried his best to turn his back to the scummy, alcohol-induced behavior that happened behind thick curtains.

He should feel fortunate that nothing bad ever happened to him. He refused to listen to the stories of some of the older, less fortunate workers. Taehyun had to feel some sort of relief; being just thirteen, he was protected somewhat by the ringleader. He was okay for now.

But he would never forget the disgusting edges of conversations that he’d hear from the older workers, just freaks like himself. They were nothing but money makers. They didn’t actually mean anything.

From working at the Circus, Taehyun learned one fact of life.

People were afraid to hear the truth. Since obtaining the deck of cards, Taehyun had been valuable and sought after in the rogue population. No one was ever prepared to hear Taehyun as he picked out their secrets, revealed them in his cards and in the constellations that he read like a book. They hated Taehyun because he never lied. They hated his cards and called them cursed.

So what? 

Taehyun cynically took out his earrings at the end of the troublesome day. He was “cursed” with dazzling intuition, sights into the past, present, and future. He had earned it by acknowledging the lonely stars. If everyone were to leave him abandoned, just like his family had done, his freedom, his happiness, at least there would remain Taehyun, his cards, and the storytelling stars.

“Have you ever tried to read your own fortune?” Taehyun was asked. He had company that night, or rather, Taehyun didn’t refuse to keep Yeji company whenever she asked for it. As a Chatoyan, she needed to be around water, for vitality’s sake. She also wasn’t too terrible to talk to.

“I’ve thought about it,” Taehyun confessed, shuffling the cards in his hands. He had sat cross legged on the floor beside her tank, a small bowl of vegetables and rice set carefully at his ankles. “But I don’t know if it would really work.”

Yeji propped her arms outside of the tank, splashing water onto the dirt below. The scales on her cheeks twinkled when she hummed in thought. “Yeah well, it might be scary to look anyways, right?”

As much as Taehyun respected Yeji, just the idea of reading his own fortune had him laughing in some kind of disbelief. “Maybe. I won’t read mine. Maybe if you come out of the water for once, I’ll read yours instead.”

Yeji rolled her eyes, mumbling “You always say that,” before disappearing back into her tank.

Taehyun sighed. They were friends, kind of. As coworkers, they were almost forced to get along, and being so similar in age, Yeji had been the one who encouraged him to keep reading and writing when he’d first been brought to the Circus. They often shared their struggles with each other, but escape never came to mind. None of the escapees actually made it that far alive.

Like clockwork, the ringleader came by just before midnight to Taehyun’s tiny sleeping tent and held out his hand. Taehyun slowly hung up his fortune robe on an old, metal rack, ignoring the man for as long as possible.

“Quickly, kid.”

This was his least favorite part of the night. “I don’t see why you have to take them,” he said instead, eyes burning with fire as he continued to put away the jewelry from his fingers and wrists. Some would see his lavish clothes and gems and assume Taehyun lived a life of luxury. In reality, he was just a teenager with one marketable skill to his name.

“I own you and your cards,” the man gruffly said around a pipe in his mouth. When he exhaled, the smoke had Taehyun wrinkling his nose. “Don’t think you’re getting it easy today. Not after that table tossing stunt.” 

Taehyun sighed again, bitterly fishing his deck of cards out of the pocket of his pants. The one time he’d adamantly refused and given the ringleader an empty box, his palms had been lashed so hard that he had to be out of work for a week. “It wasn’t me who flipped the table,” Taehyun said instead, passing the ornate cards into the older man’s palm. “You should be mad at him, not me. Ban him or something. My cards could’ve gotten hurt.”

“You shouldn’t provoke people in the first place,” the ringleader sharply scolded, snatching the cards up and putting it into the pocket of his boisterous coat. “Get it, kid?” 

Taehyun huffed through his nose, maybe a little too young to sit there and listen to some old man blabber, but mature enough to know that talking back would be useless. The cards were the only thing keeping Taehyun’s sight in check these days, and he could feel his body become more and more exhausted with each vision not assisted with those cards.

It didn’t help that Taehyun was still desperately attempting to find the person who gave him the deck. Since that dream three years ago, he’d only told Yeji that he hadn’t actually “inherited” or handmade them himself. Like a fleeting memory, that voice in his dream- Taehyun couldn’t remember how it sounded anymore.

Each day was the same as the last. Poor fucks with nothing left to do but spend their money watching Yeji’s crystal shows or begging for painful truths from the glamorously dressed, apathetic Taehyun were basically a given.

Taehyun had been inside his own tent when someone set the chimes off outside the curtain door. “Come in,” he called, eyes focused on gently wiping the card faces with a cloth. 

“I have an appointment.”

Quickly, Taehyun watched wide eyed as his guest sat herself down on the velvet chair in front of his table. Her hair, braided back, was still dropping water onto the floor. “Are you crazy?” he asked, hurrying out of his seat to tie the tent’s entrance closed. 

“I don’t have a lot of time before I need to go back, and I want my reading now,” Yeji quipped, crossing her arms. Taehyun tried not to look too carefully at the odd lines where her gills had sealed on her neck.

Taehyun frowned, but otherwise took a seat across from his friend. “I don’t know why you’re doing this.”

“Hush, don’t tell anyone, but…” She leaned in, hair dripping water onto the tabletop. “A strange man came by, early this morning. I swear by it, I was the only one who saw him. He had a crest. I feel like…” Yeji shook her head. Her intense eyes bore into Taehyun’s and told him all he needed to know. 

The Circus wasn’t exactly legal anywhere. The implications of authority being on site during off hours meant the worst.

Wordlessly, Taehyun sighed and began shuffling the cards in his hands. “Concentrate on me. I’m exhausted and could use that,” he quietly said, and the Chatoyan proudly did just that. He kept his eyes on her face, catching messages on the scales and glimmers of her cheeks, and without looking at his hands, plucked three cards whose constellations began dancing in his mind’s eye.

Yeji exhaled when Taehyun set the deck down. His perfect fingers picked out the first card, quickly engulfing it in red magic. His eyes became distant as he watched, the red flickers of magic even reflecting off of his own eyes. “You used to live in Chatoya, I see you with your sisters,” he quietly said, flipping the card onto it’s back, assuming the vision was gone. His eyebrows twitched, watching as the card continued to light. Once in his hands again, it felt like he had started to drown. “You went too far. I see you in the net…” When the card finally burned out and Taehyun properly came back into the room, he could see Yeji’s painful smile, though she gestured for him to continue.

“I see your sisters. They’re safe. They miss you.”

Yeji deeply inhaled and held her breath. 

“I see us when we first met. You felt sad but happy to have company. I see the man. He wears an Elysian crest.” The card burned in Taehyun’s hand again. The very last card twinkled insistently, urgently. For the first time since being sold to the Circus, Taehyun felt afraid to turn over the last card. 

_ Blue flames, everywhere. _

_ The chains around Taehyun’s wrists, the magical tie to his debt to the ringleader, broke into a million pieces before becoming a part of the dirt. “Yeji! Yeji, we have to get out!” He screamed, running toward her tank as the tents began to collapse all around them. _

_ “I can’t!” she screamed, desperately pushing against the top of the tank. “It’s locked, I can’t get out!”  _

_ Taehyun dodged the splintering wood around them, choking around the thick smoke in the air as he avoided the patches of fire on the dry grass. “I’m coming, hold on!” _

_ “It’s okay, Taehyun.” _

When the card had since burned out, Taehyun remained. He stared silently, jaw set as he attempted to process what he’d just watched. “Keep your tank unlocked,” Taehyun finally said. “I saw the circus burning. Try to argue when the ringleader wants to lock it. Please just try.”

With each night that passed, Taehyun grew increasingly more anxious. The fire hadn’t happened- at least not yet. It scared him to think about being caught off guard, about what it meant for Yeji too, if she became trapped in her tank. Taehyun had heard through rumors that Chatoya was an archipelago of crystal islands, but Chatoyans themselves were a bit of a mystery. He could only wish that Yeji would be able to take care of herself, outside of the tank.

It happened before dawn.

The stars were still high in the sky when Taehyun dreamed of that room of mirrors. One phrase was repeated, serious but soothing from deep within, “It’s time to leave.” The entire room glimmered, even as Taehyun opened his eyes with a gasp. 

The Circus smelled just like smoke. It was thick enough that Taehyun could smell it through the thick curtain door of his tent. He quickly pulled clothes on over his night clothes, only having his fortune-telling getup on hand as he covered his nose with his long sleeves and abandoned the tent. 

They were screaming.

Sparks, blindingly white, filled the air and the tall trees that hid them had immediately gathered in flames. Taehyun, for as much as he knew that this was going to happen, was underprepared and panicked. His brain blanked, and he started to run. “Yeji! Yeji, get out!” He screamed. The flames surged high into the sky and even the stars couldn’t see Taehyun through the haze. 

“I can’t!” She screamed, desperately pushing against the top of the tank. “It’s locked, I can’t do it!”

Taehyun dodged the splintering wood around him, choking out spit into his sleeves. It felt thick in his mouth, like he’d shoved cotton down his throat. His eyes watered and burned, such that he could barely make out the dull illumination of the tank against the blue flames. 

“It’s okay, Taehyun,” she had given up, crying crystals into the tank.

Taehyun bounced on his hot feet, looking past her into the blazing Circus. “Wait for me.”

Taehyun took off, running toward the ringleader’s not-yet collapsed tent. The screams from the outside sent chills down Taehyun’s spine, but he didn’t stop until he was at the curtain door. Although the fire was continuing to rage, reaching toward the heavens with their flickering life, it was surprisingly calm near the ringleader’s tent, as if the fire wouldn’t dare come this close. 

“-is mine!” The ringleader roared, and although Taehyun only caught the tail end of his conversation. He didn’t have time to worry about the older’s rage, not when Yeji would be trapped forever, or maybe boiled alive if he didn’t find the keys and fast. The ringleader was a bit of an idiot, if Taehyun had ever known, but from the noises outside the tent, he wouldn’t hesitate to fight. He was more powerful than anyone in the Circus liked to acknowledge. 

Just as Taehyun had the keys in his hands, his eyes widened as a blast sent the entire tent up into the air. He ducked under the desk, so grateful for once that the tents didn’t have any floors aside from the precious earth, and started to choke and cough the smoke out of his lungs. Taehyun gripped the edge of the desk, stumbling upward and dodging more fallen beams as the flames licked at his ankles and burned. Breathless but stubborn, even as the sleeves of Taehyun’s fortune telling robe had burnt to nothing, he had taken off toward Yeji’s tank again.

Taehyun’s shoulder slammed into the tank with a thud as he quickly climbed and fiddled with the lock, croaking to Yeji “There’s a river in the west, just hurry!” His entire front became wet as the lid of the tank hit the floor with a loud thud. He pulled Yeji up over the side, the both of them struggling from how slippery their arms had become from the water. 

Yeji yelped when she hit the floor, digging under the tank’s compartment for slippers to hurriedly pull on her feet, hands shaking as she worked at the ties. “Taehyun… your cards?”

Taehyun’s face drained. Why didn’t he think about it when he was grabbing the keys? He had been so focused on getting Yeji out that-

The both of them hit the floor at another loud explosion, ducking their heads into their knees as a wave of heat splashed water over the side of the tank. “Yeji,” he began, steeling his expression. “You’ll make it back home. I’ll see you someday.” 

Taehyun stuck out his pinky finger. 

She responded quickly, locking hers with his. “Stubborn brat. Give me another reading when you do!” When Yeji had run off, Taehyun looked into the flames and silhouettes of the beams and trees.

He needed those cards.

He needed them to survive. They were given to him to take care of, and Taehyun had promised that he would keep them safely, even nonverbally. The entire Circus filled with purple mist at once, and Taehyun was still there, knelt by the tank full of Yeji’s abandoned crystals. The chime of a clocktower rang in his ears. Just as the fire had spread, the flames themselves turned purple as well and retreated into the wood until all that remained was Taehyun in the rubble.

The floor was still warm as Taehyun crawled, hiding behind the charred supports and beams. He gasped, peering over a fallen tent and seeing the ringmaster, unmoving on the floor. He tore his eyes away. He didn’t need to see something like that anymore. To the side were two men, talking casually with their backs partially turned to the undamaged desk of the ringleader. 

And they were flipping through his cards.

Taehyun’s blood boiled. People were greedy and untrustworthy; adults were disgusting and gluttonous. They would take whatever they could get their hands on. How could they have done all of this, just to take his cards? Bitterly, Taehyun thought about all the money they probably were able to steal from the Ringleader. This was no accident; this was a looting, through and through.

The smoke began to clear, and one of the men pocketed Taehyun’s deck.

“Those are mine!” 

The fire in Taehyun’s eyes was so intense despite his pained body and wheezing lungs. When the men turned to face him, Taehyun’s breath hitched.

“Get lost,” one of the them, the one in the Elysian gear that he’d seen in his reading for Yeji, shooed. “Go find your parents. Everyone made it out.”

His flippant behavior and mention of Taehyun’s parents only made Taehyun hold himself up straighter. Without those cards, he wouldn’t survive. “Those belong to me,” he repeated, and the one who pocketed his cards only shot him a strange look before turning to leave. Taehyun, with all the energy left in his body, took off after him, only to be caught around the waist by the Elysian. “You don’t know what you’re doing, I can prove it-” he carelessly babbled, expression falling as the man didn’t look back, not once. He thrashed in the man’s hold, kicking out against his frame. “Let me go!”

“Take some cash from here or something, and get fucking lost!” The man grunted, struggling to keep the hysterical Taehyun in his arms.

Taehyun shook with rage, biting down as hard as he could on the man’s arm until he was released with a curse. He fell to the floor and his eyes darted everywhere, searching for the man and his cards, for the one thing he needed in order to live as best as he could. Taehyun’s heart dropped and shattered. He was nowhere to be seen.

“They aren’t meant for you anyways,” the man had hissed, rubbing at the bite on his arm, face screwed up in obvious disgust, but still not taking Taehyun seriously enough.

“You don’t know what you’ve just done to me!” Taehyun screamed, overcome with emotion. The stranger seemed confused, but mostly pissed off as he regarded Taehyun with a disgusted expression.

They had stolen Taehyun’s only thing. They destroyed the place he had no choice but to call home. There was no one left for Taehyun to run to- the people who abandoned him wouldn’t want him back at their door. 

His eyes flickered to the leather book on the ringmaster’s table, and the man’s eyes flashed in lightning sparks, barely quick enough to open his mouth when Taehyun had snatched it into his hands.

An eye for an eye, a treasure for a treasure.

The moment Taehyun’s hands had fully wrapped around the book and he’d brought it to his chest, he felt an emotion so powerful, angry and mourning, as the book emitted a pulse of red magic. It erupted like a shell from around Taehyun, the shockwave sending the Elysian backward. Taehyun’s quick breathing was interrupted by his desperate coughs, and he opened the book to the first page that he could get without his fingers shaking too much. Impulsively, he began mimicking the spell in the dirt.

“Kid, stop!”

When the portal was made, Taehyun stepped and fell inside.

So he had lied to Beomgyu.

When he was found by the other strange kid, Taehyun had no idea of where he ended up. He had wandered the unknown forest in search of food and water, and only found them at the riverside. It scared him at first, to take bites of sweet berries and begging that they weren’t dangerous, but after a few days had passed, Taehyun could only manage with what he had. 

It was difficult.

He feared visions that never came, and the spell book was so old that he constantly needed to refer to its page of symbols to understand what each page was talking about. Some of its vocabulary was much too advanced or ancient for Taehyun to even make sound to. Since Taehyun had been saved by Beomgyu and the red witch, he didn’t attempt any of the spells from the book.

During Taehyun’s few days of survival, before he’d been saved, the visions never came. He didn’t have any dreams. Once inside the cabin, in the safety and warmth, it was an entirely different story. 

They weren’t the same sights that Taehyun was used to; the fleeting visions came in the reflections of the glass cups or sometimes deep in the fire of the fireplace. It came from the raindrops’ weird shapes on the windows, but Taehyun saw the same thing every time. It was that same empty room of mirrors. He would space out, watching the vision intensely, though it was always grainy and patchy and silent. It was unlike anything Taehyun had ever seen before.

“Is… everything alright?”

Like a rush, Taehyun was out of the mirror room again. He stared at his unfinished plate of food. Was everything alright? He needed those cards. He wouldn’t be able to control himself without them. 

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

In the few days that Taehyun had been seeking refuge in Beomgyu’s coven, he was relieved that the other mainly kept to himself. The silence was necessary and helped him to focus more on the scraps of visions that he caught onto.

It wasn’t terrible though, to have Beomgyu’s company. Since their night on the porch, Taehyun had opened up to existing in Beomgyu’s company, and well…

Beomgyu had opened up as well.

Taehyun couldn’t find it in himself to think of it poorly. The storms and rain had confined them inside the witches’ cabin, and the forest outside had become near marshy with the accumulating puddles. Like routine, the two of them sat on the porch after dinner, letting the bottom of their feet get wet. 

The distant thunder was oddly soothing to Taehyun. He wondered if Yeji had made it to the river, but something in the universe kept him at peace with the idea that she had. He believed in her strong mind and perseverance. He wondered if it was different in her circumstance, considering that she had someone to fight for and return to.

Practically, Taehyun was homeless and without family. The witches were kind enough to take him in, but Taehyun knew he couldn’t stay in their little home forever. He still needed to find those cards again.

He wanted to commend Beomgyu for not asking about Taehyun’s weird situation until the end of the week. Just as he had become friends with Yeji out of circumstance, the same could be said with Beomgyu. He learned that the other was just a bit older than himself, and that he was very proud of his coven. He wasn’t pushy, but he was curious.

“You know… Starfall can actually be pretty dangerous,” Beomgyu casually mentioned. Like they had done every day after dinner, the two of them were sitting on the porch again. The wood was damp and it smelled exactly like that, but the two young ones were unbothered. “I’m surprised you made it that far up the mountain at least.”

Taehyun had only shrugged, pulling his knees in. “There wasn’t anything else I could do. I needed a place to make home.”

“Aren’t your parents waiting for you somewhere?” Beomgyu asked after some time, frowning when he turned to look at Taehyun. 

“They’re not,” Taehyun had simply answered. “They wanted me to leave, so…” 

Beomgyu’s legs had stopped swinging over the edge of the porch when he heard that. “Oh. Don’t worry about it. Home is where you make it. I haven’t even seen my parents before. I don’t know why they’d want you to leave, but the leader already said you were a part of the coven, so I guess you have like six moms now.”

It was a little endearing to Taehyun, to hear the permanence in Beomgyu’s voice, even if he was speaking casually and watching the night’s rain. “Mhmm,” Taehyun hummed in response, appreciative but not willing to say much more. The spontaneous little half-sights were taunting him off of the reflections of the puddles, and Taehyun turned his head away to not watch. “So… Are you a witch too then? You didn’t use magic, when you were attacking the bear.”

Beomgyu paused again, thinking. “Not really. Relying on magic to live sounds scary.”

And that was that.

Beomgyu avoided Taehyun whenever he was reading the spell book, but Taehyun wasn’t bothered enough to ask about it. Originally being from Evenfaun, Taehyun was naturally adept when it came to magic- at least, when it didn’t have anything to do with his cards and visions. Beomgyu was a gentle soul, Taehyun realized, especially when it came to Taehyun’s distant looks and dissociative behavior when he fixed on a sight a little too harshly.

Even if Beomgyu could be rowdy and challenging at times, he was just another kid like Taehyun. He liked to hum to himself when he was dusting the mantle, and he liked to hole himself up in his room and strum at some kind of instrument when he thought Taehyun didn’t want company.

They didn’t really know each other, but being kids, they didn’t have to. Beomgyu let Taehyun look through his journals of pressed flowers that were gifted to him by the woods. Or something like that. Taehyun didn’t understand how the woos could be as animated as Beomgyu claimed, but he wasn’t keen on doubting the other either.

“Can I tell you something weird?” Beomgyu spoke into the silence one day. They had been cleaning the wooden cabin floors on the tenth day of the rainy season. 

Taehyun looked up from where he was wringing water out of their washcloths into a bucket. “Yeah?” he said, turning to watch Beomgyu. “What… kind of weird?”

“Like… weird. Is there such a thing as a ‘kind’ of weird?” Beomgyu thought out loud with a scrunched nose.

Taehyun shrugged. Fair point. 

Beomgyu crawled across the wood to sit cross legged beside Taehyun and his bucket of water. Although the rain hadn’t let up, it wasn’t pouring as badly as it had been the previous days, and even pockets of sunlight sometimes made it into the witches’ cabin. “But this thing,” Beomgyu casually continued, lifting his fluffy mess of hair off of his forehead. “What do you think this is about?”

That was a difficult question. One one hand, he’d read about the symbol of Dusk in the spell book, but it didn’t make sense as to why it burned onto Beomgyu’s forehead after he saved Taehyun from the bear that one morning. “The red witch called it an awakening, for killing the bear,” Taehyun frowned, equally confused. “But I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean either. I just got here.”

Beomgyu nodded, letting his bangs fall back down. He opened his mouth but quickly shut it when he noticed that Taehyun was still watching and waiting for him to speak.

“What else did you mean to say?” Taehyun asked, skeptical.

“When you let me read your book,” Beomgyu began again, “I swear it started talking back to me.” He put his elbows on his knees, slouching like the confession had taken a lot of energy to say. “The pages had stuff moving around everywhere on it.”

Taehyun remembered that day well. Beomgyu’s face had been near-colorless. He was so distraught by the spell book that when Taehyun started opening it, he’d been scolded. “When I read it, nothing on the page moved. I’m serious, it’s any regular book.”

He felt the need to add that it wasn’t  _ his _ book per say, but something that he’d managed to steal from some supposedly powerful Elysian stranger. 

“When I read it,” Beomgyu reiterated, “I heard some lady’s voice talk back to me. It was like right in my ear. I’m not lying about this either.”

“I believe you,” Taehyun answered, setting the cloth rag and cleaning bucket further away. “Do you think it’ll happen again, if we read it together?”

“I don’t really know, but we can try?”

Taehyun nodded, pushing himself up from the floor. His bare feet made the short distance to his bedroom before he quickly made it back to Beomgyu, book in hand. Sitting beside him that time, Taehyun looked at the cover and then back to Beomgyu. “Don’t be nervous,” he said, unsure who to. Taehyun slid the book over until it was half on himself and half resting on Beomgyu’s thigh. It only made sense to share the space so that they could read it together.

Beomgyu let out a deep breath, and Taehyun assumed that it meant he was ready.

That time, with Beomgyu and Taehyun both crowding over the book, the book pulsed weakly in red just as it had done the first time Taehyun had touched it, but there was no destructive shockwave that came with it. Then, black smoke emerged from between the book’s pages, dripping onto the floor like crawling, inky clouds. 

“What’s it doing?” Beomgyu quickly asked, voice thick in fear.

“I- I don’t know.”

“You said it’s your book!”

“And I  _ said _ that I don’t know!”

The cover flew open on its own and the pages rapidly spun by. The force of the flipping pages pushed Taehyun and Beomgyu’s bangs up off of their foreheads, and the smoke that had dripped onto the hardwood had dissipated into the air. After some time, with Taehyun and Beomgyu unsure of whether they should put their hands on the book or not, it held itself open on one of the final pages of the book. 

Strangely, Taehyun had never read that page before. 

_ “The last of your kind will be sealed by a dormant star. This is your final punishment.”  _

The Dusk emblem flashed in various places on the page, flashing and flashing until red flames detached the page from the spine of the book and burnt it to ashes. Taehyun slammed the book shut with his palm and the red magic disappeared. 

He paled in the face. Why did those red flames look like how his magic reacted to his fortune cards?

They sat there, stiff and afraid. Taehyun hadn’t even realized that their arms were intertwined. He swore he could feel Beomgyu’s pulse hammering in his wrist that Taehyun was holding onto. 

“Let’s never open it again.”  
“I need my cards.”

Having spoken at the same time, their heads whipped to face each other, and when they did, their faces crinkled in fear and shock. “Your eye is like-” Taehyun whispered, staring in a dark pit of black where the whites of Beomgyu’s eyes once were. They made the red of Beomgyu’s irises stand out, shielded by Beomgyu’s long eyelashes. It was terrifying.

“Yours is all black,” Beomgyu interjected, pointing a wobbly finger at Taehyun’s left eye. “There’s a star in it, like the page-”

“That’s enough, boys.”

Taehyun and Beomgyu nearly jumped out of their skin. Taehyun’s eyes quickly darted to the couch by the mantle, finding some person that he hadn’t yet met. She was sitting leisurely, ankles crossed as if she’d been there, watching for some time. “Do you really want to give each other nightmares, going through the book like that? Hm, cookie?” 

Beomgyu’s ears flooded with red and he dropped his eyes down, mumbling a small “No ma’am.” Taehyun had the feeling that whatever witch this one was, was probably well respected by everyone in the coven.

She stood, the wispy edges of her dress dragging on the freshly cleaned wood. Around her elbows was a thick shawl, hanging off of her petite frame. She seemed younger than the red witch, but had an old knowledge in her eyes that had Taehyun frozen to his spot. “Blink a few times and it’ll go away, you two,” she promised with a sympathetic smile. “It’s a side effect of the Awakening. And… an unintended complication of deciding to  _ share _ the book.”

Taehyun picked up the fallen spell book from where it had slid off of their laps earlier, as if he should take responsibility over the thing. Both he and Beomgyu blinked and rubbed their eyes a few times, only taking the lady’s word as truth without doubting it.

She extended a hand to Beomgyu first, helping him off the floor and fixing the crooked collar of his shirt. She must have been fond of Beomgyu, Taehyun assumed. She watched him more carefully than the more free-spirited red witch from before. Once she was pleased with Beomgyu’s state, she offered her hand to Taehyun.

Dark and black were the veins on the back of her hand, and even her fingertips looked like they were permanently dipped in soot. The veins looked tattooed on her honey skin, and if Taehyun had the chance to look closely, he thought he could have made some word or picture out of it. “We haven’t met,” She commented, watching Taehyun curiously as he too was hoisted off the floor. “I’m this coven’s… dark witch. I must have come just in time to give you boys your first lesson.”

She moved as gentle as smoke. Even her feet didn’t make noise on the floor as she instructed Taehyun and Beomgyu to follow her outside. The backyard had become swallowed with puddles, and it continued to rain, even as the sun was poking its head out of the cloud. “I know a lot about this place,” she casually said. “I know a lot about that book. And I know it doesn’t belong to you.”

Taehyun held the book tighter, frozen on the covered porch. Beomgyu halted beside him, eyes flickering between Taehyun and the strange new witch.

She stepped out into the rain, unbothered as her hair and shoulders became damp. “I won’t take it away from you. That kind of stuff… is finder’s keepers. You’re here to learn, not suffer or be punished. Set it on the chair, it’ll be safe.”

Taehyun shared one last look with Beomgyu, but did as he was told anyway. He shouldn’t have flinched when the soft rain sank into his hair and clothes, but it chilled him to the bone. For being just the end of spring, even Taehyun was surprised at the cold. His feet were sticky in the sopping, grassy puddles, and amazingly the dark witch seemed unbothered. The edges of her dress barely floated on top of them, untouched.

“Let me explain the Awakening,” she began, opening her palms. The same black smoke that had dripped from the pages of the book instead poured from between her fingers, covering the puddled floor until Taehyun couldn’t see past his knees.

“You’ve always had that mark,” Her voice sounded, and the ground between Taehyun and Beomgyu suddenly stretched, filling with water and black smoke again. He wobbled on his feet, looking at the witch between them. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, but her gaze never left Taehyun’s eyes.

“You’ve always had that mark,” She repeated, and Taehyun’s eyebrows came together. It wasn’t him with the mark, why was she addressing him like that? “We wouldn’t have agreed to take you in, had you not have the mark. We’ve managed to keep you a secret for this long, but there are greater things for you to do than be confined.”

The smoke rose at once, encapsulating the three of them in a dark room. Taehyun gasped loudly, reaching out in front of him, but feeling nothing around in the dark. The rain didn’t prick at his shoulders and face and it had, just seconds ago. Even when Taehyun rapidly blinked, there was no difference between the dark and the back of Taehyun’s own eyelids.

“I worked with your mother,” Taehyun heard the far distant dark witch. Though he couldn’t see a thing, Taehyun knew that he wasn’t being addressed any longer. “Don’t admire her. The Dusk consumed her mind, and it’ll consume yours too.”

Taehyun heard Beomgyu scream out, and he whipped his head in that direction, arms reached out. Even as Taehyun stumbled, sinking further and further into the wet ground as if he were wading through the ocean, he didn’t think to stop. “Beomgyu? Beomgyu!” It felt like the earth was opening up, and all the rainwater and mud was sucking him down into a pit, yanking his ankles until the water reached up to his neck. “Hyung!”

He was falling through the ground, past the puddles and thick water and black smoke. There was no use telling where up or down was, even if Taehyun could feel the rush of air against his face. It was so dark all around that even if he flailed about, it would be no use.

Once Taehyun’s feet touched the ground, he fell onto his knees, heaving breaths into his panicked lungs. His elbows shook as he supported himself. “Hyung?” He called again, throat weirdly dry and hoarse. 

A pathway of glowing stones revealed shimmery, green-blue steps. Water dripped down the walls of the weird cave in uneven, small lines, but the noise they made as they hit the floor eerily echoed off the tunnel walls. The closer that Taehyun looked, the more that he realized that the stone was engraved with crystals and that every symbol from the spell book was written over and over on the walls. 

Illuminated, Taehyun shakily pulled himself off the ground, descending the staircase.

“It’s alright,” A soothing voice reassured, and Taehyun released the breath he’d been holding. The voice was familiar, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly where from. “I want to show you something.”

His feet carried him, further down, down, even as the glowing stone walls became smaller and smaller, narrowing until he had to slide sideways into a much larger, open room. The ceiling was vaulted, stretching up so far that Taehyun could barely see a speck of light where the remaining bit of glowing stone must be. There were crystals on the walls this time, clear and reflective, much like the room of mirrors he’d been catching glimpses of in the past few days. Suspended high in the cave, an orb like no other emitted a green light. With each pulse, a fine mist dispersed and fizzled around it, turning into nothing.

“Your star is still asleep,” the voice murmured. “But it misses the rest of its constellation. Do you see that up there?”

“Yeah,” Taehyun answered, neck craned to stare at the orb. It looked fragile, like it’d shatter if he put his hands on it. When he looked back around the cave, damp and puddled, he found that it was rather spherical, but hollow. The only place out was the way that he came in. Or, up toward that light at the very top. “What do you mean by star?”

“Look at me.”

Taehyun looked forward into the mirror-like crystals, finding no longer his own reflection, but a stranger. He was tall, with eyelashes long enough that they cast shadows on his cheeks. Taehyun took a step back, away from the wall, to put distance between them. “The stars threw themselves into a frozen lake on the day that Evenfaun was created. The land pitied their sorrow and tried to quell the sadness with life, growth, and people. The sky never stopped weeping, Taehyun. The creation myth that you hear is far sadder than people realize. When the stars were looking at me, I failed them. In this timeline, the stars will not be looking at you. You’ve become them.”

It was too much to take in. Taehyun wrapped his arms around himself, feeling as if he’d shrink under the other’s intense stare, but he kept his chin firmly up. “That sounds sad.”

“It’s sad,” the person repeated with a somber smile. The other’s figure ripped as if he’d been made of water, and Taehyun was met with his reflection again, though this time, his left eye was blacked out, and inside was a single, simple, white star. “Pay attention. Some day, you’ll help the stars to heal, when you return home. The only one who can touch that orb has stars in his soul and not in his eyes. You’ll bring him here.”

“I don’t even know where I am,” Taehyun whispered, swinging himself around to look at the rest of the cave. Instead, he was back in that room full of mirrors that he’d dreamed about as a child, and the other’s voice became further and further away. “Wait, show me again!” 

“You don’t need to be shown. You’ll see it. I forgive you for the cards, by the way. Don’t miss them for too long. Sorry about the bond… And take care of your dragon!”

Taehyun’s hand began to burn, and he hissed, holding it tightly against his chest until the sizzle in his palm had settled. The burn tapered into coldness and then finally:

Nothing.

When Taehyun turned his hand over, fingers twitching, he found the symbol of Dusk hidden behind an eye. It pulsed red once, and then disappeared under his skin.

Taehyun blinked a few times and found himself staring at the wooden porch steps, still dry. The dark witch and Beomgyu were in the rain, staring back at him when he picked his head up to look at them.

“Honestly, none of that was me,” the woman said with a confused and equally surprised expression.

“What happened?” Taehyun asked, realizing that he had been hugging his knees to his body with a little too much tension to be casual. 

Beomgyu uneasily shuffled away from the witch and in front of the staircase. The rain was coming down softer than before, only lightly sprinkling, though the other’s fringe was damp and clinging to his forehead. “You spaced out earlier and then just… sat there. I had my lesson alone?” 

Taehyun, still disoriented, watched Beomgyu with a dizzy expression. “The smoke though,” he muttered, warily watching the dark witch fold her arms in front of her.

“Really, that wasn’t me,” she promised with a frown. “You completely disconnected from the world and gave us a scare, little one.” 

He groaned instead, holding his aching head. Taehyun’s face crumpled and he held onto his knees again, feeling so nauseous that he could almost taste bile from the back of his throat already.

“I learned something that can help you, Taehyun,” Beomgyu had said, putting a hand on Taehyun’s shoulder. “To get back that thing you said someone took, you know? Look watch, once we get it back, you’ll feel better, right?”

“Please don’t,” Taehyun pleaded, picking his head up just in time to see Beomgyu turn into a plume of black smoke.

He heard the dark witch loudly gasp. “Cookie!”

Taehyun collapsed on the porch.

When he came to, for the second time, Taehyun was laying on the couch with some knitted quilt comfily laying across his lap. The rain was once again hammering at the glass windows of the cabin, and the darkness outside convinced him that it was late already. “Are you actually a dragon?” He asked Beomgyu, who was curiously peering over the edge of the couch to stare at him. He could see the mark peeking through the other’s bangs. 

“What?” Beomgyu’s expression screwed up. “No. I’m a witch. All witches can shift. Did you see me before you passed out?” He asked. 

Taehyun closed his eyes when the other put his soft palm on his forehead. It felt nice and cool, Taehyun thought with an unintentional, audible sigh. “Yeah. Tiny black bear. I saw it.”

Beomgyu had hummed, and Taehyun could hear some little patting behind the couch. The other must have been swinging his legs against it, a little habit that Taehyun had picked up on during that week and a half they’d spent together. “It was really scary… you just crumpled into yourself…”

When he opened his eyes again, he could see the shame and concern, painted clearly across the other’s face. “That hasn’t happened to me before,” Taehyun confessed, feeling equally as ashamed and embarrassed. He turned his head a little, only to wince with a hiss. “My head hurts.”

“Sleep a little, and when you wake up, I’ll sit with you and eat. Even if it becomes past midnight.”

They didn’t talk about what happened for the rest of the weekend. On the day that it stopped raining, Beomgyu and Taehyun were once again on the porch. It was an unspoken rule for them to meet there after dinner. The dark witch had come and gone throughout the few days, treating Taehyun gently with a promise of finding something that would help his sore eyes and aching head. 

Taehyun was doubtful that anything would help. He needed those cards.

“So I didn’t pass out the first time?”

“Nah. You just stared at the floor and let us move you to the steps. You sat there and kind of stared off into space for like an hour.” 

Weird. Taehyun picked at his fingernails. He could remember everything that happened, from being swallowed by the earth to squeezing himself between the stone walls into that glowing room. He remembered that man’s face, even the moles on his eyes, nose, lips. He remembered being told about the stars, about a different creation story than everyone else knew Evenfaun to be. Taehyun remembered trusting him with his entire heart.

“So… I stole the book, by the way,” Taehyun confessed with a defeated sigh.

“Yeah… I know already,” Beomgyu sheepishly grinned, as if to not make Taehyun feel any worse. “She told me that some guy wrote it a really long time ago, but… yeah. Why’d you mention it?” 

Taehyun picked up a wood chip from the porch and chucked it into a distant puddle. “Are you going to believe me?” 

Beomgyu shifted himself, turning to face Taehyun directly instead of letting his legs dangle over the edge of the porch as he’d usually do. “I just met you. It hasn’t been two weeks,” he started, and Taehyun sighed with a small shake of his head, turning his hand over to stare into his palm. He wondered when that weird eye-Dusk thing would appear again. “But I think I could trust you to tell the truth to me.”

That was different. Taehyun frowned when the mark didn’t show up, instead shoving his hands under his thighs and lookin at Beomgyu’s confused, yet curious face. “Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise.” 

“My parents sold me to a circus because I get visions about things. I’ve never been wrong.” Though Taehyun’s words were solid, he could feel his fingers twitching in fear under his thighs. “You don’t have to trust me, but I saw something and they called you a dragon.”

He watched the corner of Beomgyu’s mouth twitch a little bit. “I don’t really… know,” he started, putting his elbows onto his knees. “I know I can trust you though.”

Like on the first night, Taehyun looked at Beomgyu with a bewildered expression and a humorless laugh. “Oh yeah? How. How can you trust me?”

Beomgyu traced the grain on the wood. “When you told me to read the book the first night and I told you that things were moving around on the page, I saw a lady turn into a lion and then a dragon. I didn’t want to scare you when you were on the couch, so I didn’t say anything.”

The revelation was rather anticlimactic, to say the least. So what if Beomgyu was really a dragon and not a witch at all? So what if Taehyun’s palms had his seal hidden somewhere in them? What were some kids supposed to do about that information? Since the big vision, Taehyun had been practically sightless, and they carried on their regular lives in the cabin, willfully pretending that nothing was wrong. 

Taehyun was a silent worrier. He wondered if he’d ever be able to use his skill again, or be able to deliver what that man in the mirror had told him. 

He didn’t have time to worry about it on the day that the dark witch returned after the cabin had gone silent of foxes for some time.

“There’s good news and bad news,” She said, taking a comb gently through Beomgyu’s mess of hair, not that he complained much about being pampered, it seemed. “It does seem like the both of you activated that page in the spell book, but you get along so well that it won’t be a problem.” She set the comb down after giving Beomgyu’s hair one final ruffle, to which he’d groaned at, fixing his fringe himself.

She then scoot behind Taehyun, who had asked for a haircut when it had been offered to him. “Beomgyu won’t be able to shift unless you allow it,” she explained to him, snipping carefully at the hair by his neck. “My sisters want me to assist you both in that. I’ve been called a master of Feeling in my lifetime and supposedly it’ll help the agreement that you two sealed with each other when you shared the book. We’ll see.”

Taehyun and Beomgyu shared hopeful looks with each other. Life had been stagnant after they’d shared their secrets with each other. The both of them knew they wouldn’t get anywhere in their current situation, and any lesson that could help their individual skills might help to ease away the weird confusion and secrets they had. 

Taehyun had been spared from scary visions recently, but the silence was leaving him afraid and empty.

“I don’t think this is working,” Taehyun said first. Long after he’d gotten his hair cut, the witch had shifted into a black fox and sat them in the living room, facing each other. “I don’t feel anything.”

“Yeah, well I feel your palms and they’re  _ sweaty- _ ”

The dark witch cleared her throat. “Ahem. Don’t bicker. My sisters believe young Taehyun reacted so poorly to your shift because you’d forced it without his permission to do so. You’re going to suck the life out of him if you keep shifting without Taehyun’s agreement. That was the contract you two sealed with that page.” 

Beomgyu groaned and Taehyun squeezed his hand in retaliation.

“Relax. Listen to me and close your eyes, you troublemakers.”

Taehyun uncomfortably wriggled his fingers in Beomgyu’s hold. This touch was unfamiliar to Taehyun, but they’d been instructed that it might help with the “feel” exercise. 

“Breathe, slowly. Open your eyes on the exhale.”

He and Beomgyu were no longer in the living room. They were in a strange place, where everything was pitch black aside from a candle lit at their sides. “Oh no,” Taehyun groaned, shoulders slumping. Perhaps Beomgyu had shifted again. The darkness was too similar to visions, and since the silence he’d received on that front, he should’ve expected it to appear at some point.

“What’s wrong? Also this is kinda freaky, but your hands are like, really warm right now.”

That was new. He’d never been able to drag some conscious person into his visions with him. “Are you talking to me?” Taehyun asked.

“Uh, yeah?” Beomgyu snorted, shaking Taehyun’s hands as if to prove his point. “That candle’s going to be out soon.”

“You’re right.”

“Think I should try…? I don’t want you to pass out again…”

Taehyun eyed the candle. Its wax dripped quickly onto the floor. When he saw Beomgyu again, his eyes were once more black and red, and smoke came out between his lips. Although the sight should have been terrifying, Taehyun wasn’t afraid. “Try it.”

Red light poured from between their clasped hands and engulfed the room. When it pittered away, Taehyun found himself in the living room, face to face with a little black bear cub. 

“Hey, you didn’t pass out!” Taehyun heard in his ears, but Beomgyu had only made a little whine as an animal would.

“This is weird,” Taehyun deadpanned, looking at the now two animals on the hardwood floor. Beomgyu seemed to be having a field day, jokingly standing on his hind legs only to topple over Taehyun’s lap. He rolled off the younger’s thighs and onto his back with a little “oof.”

“Impressive,” the dark witch hummed with a sway of her tail. “Not very… quick or efficient though. The two of you, practice this every day and I’ll see what I can do.”

Since that day, they practiced just as they had been told. Sometimes, Beomgyu would remain as a bear for a whole day, just for a bit of fun. When the woods became no longer marshy as the days passed, Taehyun sometimes found himself being pulled into the backyard to lay around in the grass and take naps with his face pressed against the too soft fur of Beomgyu’s back. 

Each time, they’d needed to hold hands to get the shifting to work, and each time, they met in the dark room with the candle.

“Try this on,” the red witch instructed one day, placing something into Taehyun’s palm.

The red jewel in the middle of the ring reminded Taehyun of something he once wore for work at the Circus. “Where did you get it?” Taehyun asked when the jewelry fit perfectly on his left index finger. 

“Would you believe it if I stole it off an old man’s hand?” She joked, mirth in her eyes. Beomgyu had been taken away by the dark witch for the weekend. Something about gathering strength and training further up the mountain, and Taehyun had been left in the care of the red witch.

“Yes,” Taehyun quietly laughed. “Thank you, for the sudden gift?” 

The red witch gestured for Taehyun to sit with her on the old chairs on the porch. With summer finally here, the woods positively glimmered with power and life. “Actually, it’s to help channel that magic of yours. We’re practicing from your spell book tonight. The moon is so full and bright, and is just as excited to see you complete a spell as I am, little starling.” 

Taehyun had heard from both the dark witch and Beomgyu that the red witch was a master of spirit. Taehyun had no ground to doubt her, especially not after seeing her so casually use the spell book that first day that he’d been saved. 

“For the most part, these spells need to be drawn in order to work,” she explained, pointing out the instructions and small images from some pages. “But masters of magic… simply have to imagine it.”

She flipped pages in the book while whistling a little tune before she stopped, pointing to something on one of the middle pages. Like many of the other spells, its base shape was circular with symbols and lines creating chords across the circle. “This is a map,” she said with a satisfied smile. “Wow. I can’t believe I forgot this one. It’s rather useful, so we’ll start with this one.” 

The red witch held her palm out. Her veins and fingernails flashed once in a red magic that was different from Taehyun’s own, more orange in tone but just as vibrant. The spell circle appeared at her fingertips, spinning rapidly until the symbols pulled at the edges of their arcs, revealing a rectangular map. She waved her fingers over a small section, and a blinking fragment was all Taehyun needed, to know that it was showing their current location.

“I want you to practice memorizing this,” she explained to him, closing the map. “We’ll draw it in the soil first, over and over.” 

And they did.

From the evening until sunrise, under the light of the moon, Taehyun drew and redrew the spell in the dirt, and the ring on his finger flickered each time the map successfully appeared. By the time Beomgyu returned home, Taehyun could draw the spell without needing to sneak a look at the page. 

Beomgyu threw an arm around Taehyun’s shoulders the second that he’d spotted him. “I have so much to show you!”

Taehyun clapped for the other when Beomgyu demonstrated what he’d learned during his weekend away. The dark witch had him practicing his skills with a shortsword, which Beomgyu had explained, hitting an old log this way and that in the backyard. Beomgyu had ooh’d and ahh’d when Taehyun proudly showed him the map that he could make come up from the soil. Though their time apart was actually quite short, Taehyun didn’t admit that he was secretly relieved to have the other’s company once more. It also became easier for the both of them to practice Beomgyu’s shifting.

He never took off the ring; the magic infused in its metal almost refused to come off of his finger to begin with. It must have served a good purpose anyway, as Beomgyu and Taehyun met again in that dark room, testing the waters as they released each others’ hands for the first time. 

Taehyun’s ring had been the thing to emit red light instead of his palms, and when Taehyun had found Beomgyu as a bear, he had been so elated that he hugged the other’s tiny, fuzzy body.

There was no denying that Beomgyu and Taehyun had become a great unit together, and friends at the very least, between their bickering and competitive behavior. It was almost as if the whole bond created by the ancient spell book didn’t even matter at all. Halfway through the summer, all they needed to do was share a look to meet each other in the room. Sometimes, Beomgyu would cheekily snap at the same time of Taehyun’s permission, drowning the both of them with the same red light as before.

Beomgyu and Taehyun camped out on the porch that hot night in July. It was too hot to stay indoors, Beomgyu argued, promising that the trees were his friends and that they’d promised to shade the both of them from the morning sun. Bright and early the following morning, it wasn’t the light that had woken the pair up.

“Rise and shine, babies!” A cheerful voice rang. It was near melodic, and just bright enough that Taehyun couldn’t feel upset for the wake up call. 

He cracked his sleepy eyes open to find an entirely new fox than the red and dark witches that he’d met prior. Her fur was a muted, sandy puff, and she seemed even more playful than the red witch, from how she prodded Taehyun and Beomgyu’s foreheads with her perfectly round paws. 

“Food, then lesson. Carry your pillows inside, chop chop!” 

Over breakfast, Beomgyu introduced her as the coven’s golden witch, a strangely elusive, yet lively woman that had helped to raise Beomgyu. Taehyun could understand why he’d call her such a thing, considering that it was nearly impossible to hear her approach them. Her movements were silent, like owl wings out in the dead of night, and even if Taehyun had kept an eye on her, it never failed that he was always surprised by her sudden presence in the room.

“Talking is overrated. There’s so many more intricacies of the universe to explore, and songs inside of every soul that sing for the stars,” she explained after breakfast, grooming a paw of hers. “Let’s test out your little contracted bond today.”

Unlike their lessons with the dark witch, they sat facing away from each other. “We’re totally out of sync,” Taehyun grumbled, scratching his knee. “I can just feel you not trying to match me.”

“Not matching  _ you _ ? Don’t you think you should be matching me instead?” Beomgyu snorted. “I’m older than you, and I’ve been in this coven longer than you.”

Taehyun frowned, pushing back a little against Beomgyu’s shoulder blade, to which the other simply grunted at. “Fine, you start it then.”

The lesson had been a really weird one, to say the least. The golden witch was a master of “hearing” or so she’d called it. “Your natural rhythms and songs need to align. Once you know what each others’ calls are, your communication will be heavenly.” That being said, she started off the lesson by making them play some sort of game with each other.

They were meant to echo each other, and the leader had to make something brand new immediately as the other had started his echo. Beomgyu was trying a series of more complicated rhythms, snapping and clapping and things that Taehyun could only describe as “noise.” Multitasking was especially difficult when they couldn’t face each other to anticipate the next noise.

“You’re going too fast,” Beomgyu had whined when Taehyun attempted to echo the patterns back to Beomgyu. With an exaggerated sigh, he pushed himself against Taehyun’s back, forcing him to fold forward into his lap.

“You just can’t keep up or make something brand new in the short time between,” Taehyun argued, huffing when Beomgyu continued to stretch and audibly yawn. He wasn’t in the mood to push back against Beomgyu, already exhausted from failing over and over again.

The golden witch seemed disappointed with their lack of progress. “It’s not realistic to find each others’ call in just a single sitting,” she reassured, despite her frown. “It’s nothing like shifting. It comes from the mind and soul like a game. How about we have lunch and try again later?”

Even after lunch, they tried and failed. Then again after dinner, nothing was doing it for them, and the duo had grown frustrated to the point of snapping at each other and shoving back on their shoulders during each others’ fault. It was easy to play the blame game, especially for Taehyun, who wasn’t used to failing and being so out of his element. 

They hurt each others’ feelings without meaning to, but still met on the porch later in the evening. 

The silence between them was weird. They had their comfortable moments of silence in the past, but Taehyun couldn’t find himself enjoying it. He wanted to get these lessons over with. He wanted to hurry and find his cards. The passing days, visionless, were leaving him feeling empty and worthless, even if he did find a new talent in drawing a map in the dirt. What good was a map, if Taehyun could simply just “see” where they were meant to be?

It was just frustration. They were both too sharp, frustrated with each other earlier, and Taehyun wasn’t going to apologize for feeling frustration as an emotion. Beomgyu hadn’t apologized either, and Taehyun didn’t expect him to, especially since they’d ended their practice on a more sour tone than usual. That didn’t stop Beomgyu from passing Taehyun one of the porch cushions to hold onto.

Without the rain’s gentle noises, Taehyun hugged the pillow on his lap and accepted the Starfall woods and their silence. It was dark out there, glimmering somewhere with a foggy kind of magic, but it wasn’t as scary as the first night that Taehyun spent, alone in the woods. Even if the two of them were mad at each other, Taehyun wasn’t uncomfortable. 

Hopefully, it would just get better with time. If Beomgyu meant what he said about helping him to find his cards, then going through these lessons and learning to deal with accidentally making a centuries old contract over an ancient spell book was a part of necessity. Taehyun would at least try to put effort into making things work.

Beomgyu seemed to think the same as him. He left for less than a minute and returned to the porch with pillows and sheets in his hands, as well as a small smile on his face.

Yeah. 

They’d be okay.

“Okay this time, I’m literally going to repeat the same pattern over and over,” Beomgyu warned the following day. They were back to back again, and the golden witch was at the side someplace, head on her perfectly round paws and humming to herself. The tune was foreign to Taehyun, but not unwelcome at all.

“So what’s the pattern?” Taehyun asked.

“I dunno yet. Let me think.”

When Beomgyu sighed, Taehyun could feel the other’s back shift on the exhale, and it grounded him in a strange way. Like on the porch last night, they sat in their silence for some time, and the only noise throughout the cabin was the golden witch’s simple song and the puffs of their breaths. 

“I think I’m catching something,” Beomgyu whispered. To Taehyun, it felt like so much time had passed, but he hadn’t become frustrated as he had been yesterday. 

He closed his eyes, straining to listen to what Beomgyu had gotten caught in his ear, but past the silence, all Taehyun could find was a strange ringing in his ears. “I’m not sure…”

“Shh,” Beomgyu quickly hushed. “I hear it.”

Taehyun kept his mouth shut that time, eyes pinched shut. Still, the only noise he could focus on was his own internal static and the super quiet, melodic hums coming from the golden witch. When the buzz from his brain faded to the edges of his skill, he felt the tension in his shoulders begin to melt away, like all it took was for him to give up the power, give up the focus so that all the noise could become a muted-

Nothing.

Taehyun remained grounded thanks to Beomgyu’s long and deep breaths, which Taehyun could feel against his own back. Despite not being able to face him, Taehyun could strangely imagine the other’s expression clearly in his mind’s eye.

It was so quiet that Taehyun almost didn’t catch it at first. The rapping of nails on the hardwood, some place behind him and so quiet that he knew it had to have been Beomgyu. Over and over, in a four rhythm beat, the taps sounded so loud in Taehyun’s ears, though he knew the actual noise was nothing louder than a mouse. It felt as if the introduction of the new rhythm completely covered the buzz in his mind, the breathing, even the golden witch’s little tune. 

He responded in his own, two quick taps and two held out noises.

“That’s it,” Beomgyu whispered.

They played their echoing game, on and on until the rhythms they tapped out on their fingers aligned, and all at once, the white noise completely ceased to exist. Metal chimes sang to the beat in Taehyun’s mind.

It was melodic but sad, those four notes replaying over and over. The bond made in contract between the star and the last of his kind mournfully sang between them. The more that it replayed and replayed, the far distant chimes became more distinct, as crisp as bells and as light as a song. Still, it sounded like it was crying, singing out into an empty room as an old music box.

“My, that’s so sad,” the golden witch had sighed, relaxing further against the floor. “Your calls blend so well. I doubt you’ll ever fail to recognize each other.”

Taehyun frowned when he opened his eyes, wincing at the intensity of the daylight in the cabin. He turned his body around to see Beomgyu fiddling with the edge of his shirt, frowning like the music tapering off in their minds was even too sad for him as well. “You heard it too?” Taehyun asked, addressing the witch that time.

“If I didn’t hear it, what kind of master would I be?” The witch asked with a huff, pushing herself off of the floor. “I hear people’s songs, that’s just what I do. They’re like names to me. Well… anyways. Well done boys.”

They were playing hide and seek in the backyard a week later as a little test to their calls. When Taehyun found Beomgyu, hiding high in one of the Starfall trees, he’d climbed his way all the way up there and sat beside him on the branches. “Why didn’t you come down when I called for you?” Taehyun asked. 

“I made it up too high,” Beomgyu confessed with a pout and pink to his cheeks. “I can’t get back down…”

Taehyun had laughed at that, until he realized how serious Beomgyu was, and his laughter turned into a concerned sort of small smile. “Let’s wait it out then and we can go down when your nerves are okay,” he said, feeling relieved when Beomgyu had nodded his head to that. Since these months that he’d spent with Beomgyu, living with him, learning about him, navigating the book’s special spell together, Taehyun felt so… normal.

He felt normal, and free.

The partial visions had gone, the visions were practically just a thing of the past. Maybe living like this, secluded in the Starfall woods with a strange little not-dragon witch and his six definitely-witch guardians wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t the Circus at least. It was just him and Beomgyu, growing up and messing up the recipe for stews, and accidentally getting arrows stuck in log dummies in the backyard.

Maybe Taehyun didn’t even need the cards. The whole thing he’d seen in the cave of crystals, and that orb hovering high above, that should have been a fluke. Taehyun didn’t mind pretending it was a dream, even if it ate at his mind every now and then.

“When you call for me, do you know what your song sounds like?” Beomgyu asked, holding onto the trunk of the tree as Taehyun was helping him descend its branches. 

“We have the same song,” Taehyun said, patting a branch just underneath Beomgyu. He was further down the tree than the older, making sure that they took a decent path down. Taehyun wasn’t so afraid of cuts and scrapes as Beomgyu was. “Left foot here, hyung.”

“Duh. But to me, you kind of sound like a flute, when you call. It’s like, really bright. Like a whistle, but not annoying.”

Taehyun tilted his head, taking another step down the tree and shifting his grip on the lower hanging branches. “You sound like a music box to me. When you’re really far away and call, I can hear you turn the gears of the box. Is that weird?”

With a little hop, Taehyun had both of his feet on the floor, sticking his arms out in front of him so as to not fall over on the landing. He had a hand on Beomgyu’s back when the other managed to hop down the last bit of tree, steadying him when his feet touched the floor too. 

“I don’t think it’s weird. Actually, we’re both weirdos, so does it really matter what’s weird or not?”

The rest of July came and went without any sign of the older witches. Taehyun and Beomgyu played in the backyard, or sometimes kept to themselves. They didn’t need to make schedules, not with already knowing how life worked. Sometimes, they waddled to the river and dipped their feet in, careful not to leave the safer parts of its swell. By the time it was August, Taehyun had completely forgotten about the pain of his life before meeting Beomgyu.

The red witch appeared on the second day of August with a somber expression. Gone was the smile on her face, instead steeled with a seriousness that had Beomgyu and Taehyun silently paying attention. She didn’t dawdle on, instead gathering the two of them in front of her and opening the world map in her palms.

The red witch pointed to a spot on the map. “I want you to go here, and bring me an apple from the orchard. And I want it before dawn.”

At the time, Taehyun had no idea. He didn’t get a chance to see her concerned eyes as Taehyun and Beomgyu had taken off, relying on Taehyun’s memory of the map and only pausing in their day journey to redraw the spell circle in the dirt and on bark of the trees to make sure that they were going in the correct direction. 

“Why would she need an apple?” Beomgyu wondered out loud. The two of them had been walking all day under the cover of the tall trees and the natural forest fog. Magic was rich in Starfall, as the both of them had grown to know, but Taehyun and Beomgyu were just a tiny part of it.

“Maybe she’s busy and can’t get it herself,” Taehyun frowned, trying to come up with the most logical reason that the red witch, a master of spirit, would be unable to retrieve something as simple as an apple on her own. 

“And she doesn’t have five other witches able to do it… Taehyun, I’m just worried.”

They paused. After walking throughout the whole day and only stopping to check the maps or eat the food they’d brought, Taehyun’s feet were aching, but he was much too stubborn to stop and turn around. It would have been such a waste of time, even if Taehyun was worried himself. “We can’t give up on doing it,” he finalized after some thought. “It’s… it’s just an apple, right?”

Beomgyu shrugged, kicking at a rock beside them, watching as it kicked up spores from a nearby mushroom. 

By the time they made it to their destination, some place just at the edge of the Starfall woods and Evenfaun, the moon was high into the sky. The two of them eyed the fence separating them from the distant orchard. “Maybe it’s best if I do this as a bear,” Beomgyu said, wary and lacking in his usual confidence. “And you can wait here. It’ll be easier and I can crawl around.”

“You want to leave me here?” Taehyun asked, almost offended that Beomgyu had offered to walk into that unknown land alone. 

“It’s an apple. I can see the leaves of the apple trees, just over there,” Beomgyu pointed, and Taehyun rose on his tiptoes to take a look. It was hard to tell in the dark, but he didn’t want to doubt Beomgyu’s intuition either. “Just one apple. I promise to be quick.”

Something in Taehyun’s gut didn’t sit right, but didn’t refuse. They met again in the dark room for only a second, before Beomgyu was bumbling off in his little bear form, leaving Taehyun to watch from the area of Starfall just behind the fence. When he blinked his eyes, something fuzzy and green remained at the edges of his vision, and frustrated, Taehyun rubbed at his eyes, leaning against one of the Starfall trees to get a hold of the burning that he felt.

How long had it been already? Taehyun was pacing anxiously, eyes watering from what he’d assumed to be the pollen from the strange plants, trees, and flowers just over the fence. He called for Beomgyu, sounding the little song that echoed in his mind, satisfied when he heard the same tune echoed back at him from a distance away. The closer it became, the more that Taehyun found it easier to breathe.

His face screwed up in confusion. What was Beomgyu carrying in his fuzzy arms? The apple between his teeth seemed perfectly red and shiny in the moonlight, and Taehyun was just relieved that they could make their way back to the cabin without too much trouble. This would be just some random assignment given to them by the red witch, thankfully. 

Just as Beomgyu was coming through the fence, Taehyun gasped as the other immediately fell into the floor, his snout digging into the soil beneath. “Hyung!”

Something bright and red dug into Beomgyu’s thigh, and through the bond in their contract, Taehyun could hear and feel the fear and pain as Beomgyu writhed, tugging and tugging his leg like it would be set free from the pink trap that held him in place. The strewn foods around them, and the apple discarded at the side, meant nothing if Beomgyu was getting hurt. 

Just as Taehyun started running down the slope of the hill, almost completely leaving the cover of the trees, two people appeared over the grassy, eastern side of the fence, hurrying over to Taehyun. Beomgyu screamed and moaned, tugging his leg to be set free, even if the blood wet his fur. “Taehyun! Taehyun, get out! Go!”

Taehyun had no choice, feeling his pulse in his throat as he hit the floor to hide from the two strangers.

He couldn’t do it.

He ran away from everything in his life.

Taehyun didn’t have a choice but to watch under the cover of the greenery and tall grass, as the two strangers fussed over Beomgyu and the other continued to shriek and scream to be let go. 

What could Taehyun even do. What was a spell circle’s map supposed to do. He could hear Beomgyu’s song painfully playing in his mind, tormenting and sending pain right into Taehyun’s chest, and when he had the strength to push himself off of the grass, Beomgyu was stumbling over toward him, apple in his mouth and swaying as he dragged his bloody leg.

Taehyun’s hands shook as he scrawled some circle into the dirt, not bothering to check if the two people were looking for him and Beomgyu or not. Beomgyu was crying in pain as Taehyun gathered him into his arms, but the apple was still between his jaws, clenched tightly as the little bear attempted to manage the pain.

Fearing the worst, Taehyun’s eyes pricked with tears. He could only wish that this was the right spell for a portal, pulling him and Beomgyu and the apple into its weakly spinning red circle in the dirt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Again, updates will be slower than usual, but I hope you continue to wait and enjoy upcoming chapters!


	7. Yeonjun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeonjun had no choice but to quickly grow up. The stone tunnels of Elysia and the winds song that whistled down its halls became nothing more than colorless and monochrome again.
> 
> [Read chapter notes for content warnings]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a Long while now, hasn't it? Just about a month! Thank you for being so patient. This chapter is quite long to make up for the time! I'm pretty active on @soobimoroll on twt if you're willing to put up with a lot of constant ramblings lol.
> 
> You can find my map on twt under my Safe in the Garden pinned post. This takes place at map keys #2 an #1. 
> 
> BEFORE YOU READ >> warnings for this chapter:  
> Mentions of infidelity and extremely brief, not elaborated corporal punishment. 
> 
> One last note: As far as timelines go, this takes places during chapter one and brings us to the most "recent" time.

Elysia was a fortress of stone, ice, and the brilliant cloudy skies. Yeonjun had memories of being carried through the mist, playing in the rain, and treasuring each season as they arrived. The summer sun felt especially comforting in their gray world, but being perched above the rest of the other civilizations, practically touching where the heavens turned into the realm of the stars, Yeonjun lived with the most fantastic view despite Elysia’s monochromatic tones. 

Although life in Elysia was gray, past the clouds and down the mountain, the land was colorful and bright. Yeonjun had learned from his parents and in the academy that Elysia was made to protect. Crafted carefully by the winds, it wasn’t their purpose to indulge in the same colors, but absorb the darknesses of the world so that everyone else could maintain their vibrancy and vitality. And as a thanks, the aurora that gleamed to their north danced in fluorescent purple and green. It reflected off the distant ice and water, and that was what made Elysia really glow.

When Yeonjun was younger, he enjoyed the rain. 

The darkened clouds that would overtake their mountaintops and cast their waterfalls in even the thickest mist and fog represented Elysian power. When lightning crackled high in the sky, all of Elysia would exist together in pride. Although Elysians were children of the wind, their cores were made of pure lightning. Such a legend goes, that in the creation of the world, the power of the lightning and the gentleness of the rain, the all-knowingness of the wind, were the three pillars of their promises as a protector. 

When the gentle rain filled the gaps in the earth and left water and salt, the collective power that resulted, roared with the winds and became the sea, and that was Chatoya to the southeast. 

Yeonjun didn’t need to be reminded. As the future ruler of Elysia, it had been engraved in his mind a million times. There were many responsibilities to take care of, and even as Yeonjun lived as a child and into his teenage years, he did so with a seriousness that was atypical of others around his age.

It wasn’t that Yeonjun grew up without love; he was loved by many, in fact. He relished in tender ruffles of his hair from his parents and little encouraging kisses to his rosy cheeks. Yeonjun lived a life knowing that he was precious, and that he, a single child in the most powerful family of Elysia, lived without external worry. Childhood could never last forever though, and as he became older and his responsibilties became more clear, then the love turned into expectation. Yeonjun foolishly melded the two together.

There was a big role in Yeonjun’s life that he needed to fulfil. It would be useless to hide from it, or pretend it didn’t exist. 

Elysia was ruled in a pair of siblings. Extending from a long tale of the collision of westward and eastward winds, they found that most harmony happened with two co-rulers instead of a single ruler. Aside from one dark patch in Elysian history, some generations and generations ago, it was imperative that the power to rule Elysia wasn’t put in just one individual’s hands. And yet, his aunt was childless and his parents only managed to have Yeonjun.

There was a lot of expectation for Yeonjun. The last leader who ruled Elysia all on his own had left on a quest and never returned. 

After that ancient Elysian king had abandoned their nation right after one of the biggest wars of that time, predating Evenfaun, there was an unspoken taboo about ruling solo. The Traitor was the reason for the balanced, reformed Elysia. 

This Elysia was the perfect fortress, the eternal protector of the land, and with Yeonjun being the only child that the king and queen produced, there was talk that he was doomed to become the next Traitor.

Perhaps that was why Yeonjun tried so hard to be a person that everyone could admire. He needed to be the best and prove his loyalty to Elysia in his leadership and studies, or else maybe he really would fall to the same fate as that ancient Traitor did. 

For all the time, growing up and learning to harness the wind, enabling his own lightning core and power, and also learning how to be a diplomat, there was no time for Yeonjun to be anything less than perfect. It wasn’t that there was just one role to fill; as a single child, he would need to fill two. The world was gray in Elysia, yes, but Yeonjun had always hoped for individuality. He wished to be more than just the title. He wanted to become worthy enough that the aurora sang for them every night without fail.

The monochrome world of Yeonjun’s bled into color when he met that curious, arcane boy from Evenfaun for the first time. 

After the biting cold winds finally settled themselves away, and the icy mountaintops were melted away by the gentle kisses of the spring sun, Yeonjun was told that they would be venturing off of their mighty Elysian mountains and down into that strange, starry land known as Evenfaun. There was no use for the prince to go unless he was useful, and that much was made clear. 

“Show us that you’ll be a thoughtful ruler,” his father had said, putting a heavy hand on Yeonjun’s young shoulder. “This isn’t a vacation away from your studies. You’ll be in Evenfaun to introduce yourself to their prince. He’s got starlight in him, and you will both be rulers in the future. It’s best that you get on their good sides, just as I will.”

The first time Yeonjun visited Evenfaun, he and his father and their entourage escaped down the mountainside with the wind, skimming the mist of their waterfalls and finding themselves welcomed by the Queens and the young prince themselves. It was as if the place was decorated with greenery. In the height of the beautiful summer, Evenfaun felt too unfamiliar and bright, but the leaves seemed to reach for the Elysians in their own sweet greetings.

Yeonjun was thirteen at the time, unable to take his eyes off of the similarly aged prince in front of him. The arcane prince looked so squirmy and good-natured, even if he was trying his very best to put on a noble look. He flinched lightly when the other prince suddenly pitched forward into a bow.

He could feel the awkwardness, even from where he was, a few feet away. Heat pricked at the back of his neck, like Yeonjun wasn’t sure if he should also be bowing, before finally deciding that it shouldn’t be necessary. Weren’t they just kids after all?

“You must be the new prince,” Yeonjun said, eyes getting caught in the pretty headdress adorning Soobin’s black hair. There were strange plants woven there that Yeonjun had never seen before. Evenfaun was just as mystical of a land as the rumors said.

“Oh, I’m not  _ new, _ I’m twelve-”

“No one has bowed to me before,” Yeonjun interjected, internally wincing when he saw the look of panic on the other’s face. He hadn’t meant it rudely. Yeonjun just wanted the two of them to be friendly with each other, and bowing ninety degrees to each other was too formal, even if it was their first meeting. It made even the proper Yeonjun want to squirm too. He looked at his father, conversing with the queens in an engaging way, and saw the sincerity in their expressions.

Yeonjun had a long way to go.

“You don’t have to do that,” Yeonjun explained, softer this time when he noticed just how stiff the arcane prince, Soobin’s, shoulders had become. Yeonjun tilted his head, curiously watching Soobin fumble over his words, over deciding on what to do. If Yeonjun were the host, he’d had probably led them out of the hall by now, just as their parents had done, but he wasn’t going to push Soobin and boss him around. Yeonjun could be patient and give Soobin all the time that he needed.

And Soobin gave Yeonjun the same kind of patience too.

The two of them were young souls, bumbling around each other and showing off their special talents without a single care in the world. Even when Soobin walked him around his massive garden, by the rows of fruit trees and tall bushes, and when they ran through the dirt together, skidding on stones that had been worn so smooth and getting their clothes dirty, Soobin was patient with Yeonjun.

Yeonjun had never experienced something so freeing in his life. There were too many rules in Elysia to follow, too many eyes on Yeonjun. He felt so tiny in the garden, like if he and Soobin were to climb one of the sturdy trees and make their home there, they could be under the sky forever.

The once-frozen lake from Evenfaun’s origin story felt warm and comfortable. The water passed against his legs and felt just like silk. Even the sun seemed to bless the clear water, making it twinkle and sparkle just like the lake’s shores. They had walked out far enough to where their hips were submerged in the water. Off toward the center of the lake were little islands, but aside from that, the lake was so massive that it seemed like the water and the sky merged into one.

There was so much color at the lake. Yeonjun saw it in the brightness of Soobin’s eyes and the rainbows made by their playful splashes. The thick, white clouds reflected off the colorless water, and the green that surrounded them cast their shadows into the lake. Soobin treated everything kindly, even down to the way that he teased Yeonjun, kicking up water at him and letting Yeonjun chase him all the way back to the shore.

Evenfaun was so green, Yeonjun realized, lazing with Soobin on the giant roots of the tree. The leaves were massive, maybe even bigger than the ones he’d seen in Avianna. This was a color that Yeonjun would have never been able to experience in Elysia.

Elysia didn’t have Soobin either. The two of them had become friends, smiling so wide until their cheeks hurt from it, laughing so much that they had to grip at their sides and beg for mercy or else they’d fall into another giggling fit. Yeonjun wondered if Soobin felt their connection too. Did he know just how at peace that the other made him? Did he realize how much life Yeonjun was able to gain, simply by hearing the other’s silly tales?

Looking back on it, Yeonjun could have never realized how precious the moments were.

“Will you show me your magic, or what?” Yeonjun asked, prying to see just what kind of things the arcane prince was capable of. The two of them were similar, and Yeonjun knew that. They were young people who had big shoes to fill, and expectations created realities. The both of them were complex, but naive. 

“I can show you something, but it won’t actually do anything, so don’t expect too much. ”The fine teal smoke, a magic so thin that it seeped around the bark of the tree, illuminated the roots, but Yeonjun couldn’t keep his eyes off of Soobin. Even as the magic had dissipated, like it was being absorbed into the tree itself, Yeonjun was simply captivated.

“When I do this, I can feel it like it's breathing. I can almost hear it buzzing.” Soobin explained, eyes on the pulsing magic beneath his fingertips. 

Yeonjun had never witnessed anything so melodic, yet soundless. The bright color of Soobin’s magic reminded Yeonjun of the aurora over the northern sea that he so badly yearned for. How could he have explained that it was beautiful and mysterious? How could Yeonjun confess that his heart was racing in his chest and it gave him a reason to keep striving to be the best; so that both the aurora and Soobin would find him worthy in the future.

“Kinda looks like snot.”

“Ah- No way!”

Since then, it was easy for Yeonjun and Soobin to establish their friendship. They were young and playful, and Soobin wasn’t really as shy as he seemed to be on their first meeting. The summer was sweet and colorful, void of the rainy Elysian skies that Yeonjun was so used to. 

With no lessons to go to, with parts of Soobin’s garden to explore and climb, and that massive lake to wade in, Yeonjun and Soobin talked until their throats were sore, and played until they fell asleep right where they stood. Yeonjun’s first friend was the arcane prince from Evenfaun, and he was someone who understood Yeonjun the most and showed him a world of color and gentleness. 

Even when it was time for Yeonjun to return home, he tried to be the strong person between the both of them. Soobin had been upset all day, and no amount of side hugs or hand holds, no ruffled fringes could bring his mood back up. As a hyung, Yeonjun felt responsible somehow, for reassuring Soobin that their friendship wouldn’t just end in the summer.

“I’ll come back and play,” Yeonjun promised. 

Soobin was a friend that Yeonjun could never let go of. He brought all the color and stamped it into Yeonjun’s eyes so he could bring it back with him to the grey, Elysian mountaintops. Even if Yeonjun was to be alone again, if he needed to be the Elysian prince and the future solo-ruler, if he were meant to have all eyes on him, at least he would be able to see the world in this new view that Soobin taught him.

Even as the two of them tearfully said goodbye, and the Elysians departed toward the northwest again, Yeonjun was unable to stop thinking about Soobin.

What about it made his friend so intriguing? Was it the way that he carefully handed life? Maybe it was how willing Soobin was to accept Yeonjun, nothing more than a total stranger, into his home. They didn’t need to think about getting along, they just  _ did _ . 

But that was the reality of childhood. Being children with no responsibilities, it was easy.

The seasons changed, and Yeonjun had made it a point to send and retrieve letters from Soobin every day. 

One of his favorite parts of the day was adding his specially crafted letters into the parade of paper, watching as they skid down the rocks of the mountain, dodging the water that would eventually turn into Evenfaun’s western river. The papers twinkled, made to endure even the craziest of weather as if they were guarded by the winds themselves. And in a way, they were. This system of communication wasn’t set up by Elysia directly, but the power was harnessed into their everyday work, just as the rain cycles and seasons were.

Yeonjun put a lot of work into keeping his friendship with Soobin.

It was the only true friendship that Yeonjun had, not that he really blamed his same aged peers for being intimidated, but it was nice to have Soobin’s outside thoughts and opinions on certain things.

And Soobin was just incredible.

He treated everything gently, much more gentle than Yeonjun had ever experienced in Elysia. He picked fruits with his long fingers and didn’t do much as step on the roots of the trees. Life was precious to Soobin, which was the reason why Soobin became precious to Yeonjun. Since knowing each other at such a young age, Yeonjun grew along with him, allowing himself to feel for the world just as Soobin did.

And maybe a little more.

In Elysia, Yeonjun wasn’t usually alone. He had friends who wanted to practice together, direct the clouds, and learn from the prince himself. They treated him nicely, but a cynical teenage Yeonjun thought maybe it was only because they had to. Still, Yeonjun didn’t doubt their initially genuine behaviors. Even with all of those eyes on him, Yeonjun could hardly believe that anyone actually saw him like Soobin did, and saw him for himself instead of Elysia’s next ruler or potential traitor.

Perhaps Yeonjun saw the world in too much color. Perhaps he saw too much fluorescence in everyday life, that he needed to be reminded of the bleariness of the world. 

“Don’t be overconfident,” his father scolded, holding Yeonjun by the wrist. Although the grip wasn’t hurting Yeonjun, it was still firm enough that Yeonjun knew to follow in line and not try to take his hand away. “You are losing focus of what Elysia is about.”

A storm roared over the northern coast.

Rain poured over them, sent down from the heavens in heavy buckets. It felt like spears against Yeonjun’s skin, completely unlike the gentleness of the rain that Yeonjun had once been accustomed to. The dirt from the cliffs clung to his feet, and Yeonjun was grateful that his father didn’t drag him out any further to the water.

Something off the edge of the cliff roared, clawing high over the edge of the waves. Its teeth shone a brilliant white each time lightning surged down at its massive body. The giant, rolling ocean waves looked like they were bleeding themselves, crying as the beast raked its claws down the waves and cut them into halves. “We are constantly battling, Yeonjun,” his father said, releasing him, just as the beast roared again. The noise of the thunder and the waves melded with its scream into a symphony of pain in Yeonjun’s ears.

He winced and shuddered. He wanted nothing more than to tear his eyes away, but he watched owlishly as the dark clouds above continued to shove the demon further and further into the water. 

The air between them grew thick with static, and Yeonjun gasped at his father, whose veins and eyes illuminated in the brightest blue. With one last crack of thunder and lightning, strong enough to have sent Yeonjun to his knees, the creature screamed and sank into the water.

The rain pelted against Yeonjun’s scalp as he watched, in fear of its claws coming back up and gripping the waves as if they were mere stepping stones again, but over the noise of the rain against the stone, Yeonjun could hear no more of the beast’s cries, nor could he see the red eyes over the waterline again.

“There is nothing on these shores except for pain,” Yeonjun’s father grit his teeth, helping Yeonjun up by grabbing his elbow and pulling. “That is called the Rot. If you become complacent, it’ll take you down with it. Don’t disappoint us.”

They were set to visit Elysia again the following summer. 

There was no more fun and games allowed in Elysia, not with more beasts and black sludge appearing to climb up the cliffs and soak the sandy shores. The Rot was coming closer, creeping from that mysterious island to the far north of Elysia. The northern shore was colorless and gray. The white rock and sand were crying for help, that much, Yeonjun could just feel. When his father disappeared for weeks on end and returned looking years older, Yeonjun grit his teeth and clenched his fists. What could one prince do? 

How would he become a worthy ‘someone,’ when all the misfortune and pain happened to the north, and he was left at the palace to become the nation’s Traitor.

At least Yeonjun could regain his strength in the summer. At least Yeonjun could regain his strength with Soobin beside him. They could share their struggles; they shouldered the weight together. Yeonjun would finally be able to breathe. As they descended the mountain, Yeonjun thought of what he would tell Soobin. He thought about what kinds of things they would be able to catch up on, aside from what they’d spoken about in their letters.

Yeonjun found the silver arrow on the border of Avianna and Evenfaun. It gleamed in his periphery, and Yeonjun didn’t hesitate to pick it up and wrap it to give to Soobin as a gift, but the moment he’d tucked it away, he’d forgotten about its existence. He had more important things to talk to Soobin about, after all. There was nothing more that Yeonjun wanted than Soobin’s company and his gentle touch again.

“It’s just a form change,” Yeonjun explained. 

Past midnight in Soobin’s garden, the two of them were still red in the cheeks from running so fast out the back door of Soobin’s home. Anxious with the possibility of being caught, but free-spirited blood pumping through their veins so much that they could feel each others’ pulses in their clasped hands, Yeonjun remained unbothered. They were sticky from the summer’s evening humidity, and Yeonjun was wise enough to know that the far eastern sea was sending its night time mist and fog up the hills with every minute that passed. And every part of it was beautiful. 

“They tell us in school that humans can’t do it, so… Don’t try too hard to do the impossible either.” Yeonjun pulled up the sleeves of his shirt, trying to play it cool even if he felt an immense sort of pressure. He knew that Soobin wouldn’t judge him; he’d never judged him for anything during these long stays in Evenfaun. He wanted to do well though, and impress someone who he thought actually mattered. “Elysians  _ are _ wind. I can see other Elysians, but if you went there on your own, it’d probably look like a ghost town. You’re not gonna get scared right? If I show you?”

“What, for becoming wind?”   


Yeonjun’s eyes slightly widened, and he quickly worked to correct his expression. 

Of course Soobin wouldn’t be afraid. They knew each other too well already. There was no reason to be afraid anymore.

None.

Becoming the wind was easy. All of Elysia were the winds’ children; they were the sky’s currents that protected their world, just as the watery currents of Chatoya did in the southeast. Yeonjun dissolved into nothing, as wind was supposed to do, but still just as present as the gentlest breeze. It was as if he’d turned invisible, but the world around him quivered in his slight movements, disrupted by his little pocket of air - the projection of himself. 

“Yeonjun hyung?” 

Yeonjun fondly huffed through his nose. He tested the waters first, swaying this way and that in front of his friend’s eyes, just to see if he’d accurately become just another trick of the moonlight for Soobin. The other’s bottom lip was sticking out, like he was worried over Yeonjun’s disappearance, and tenderly, Yeonjun moved Soobin’s fringe away from his eyes, leaning in close to inspect him.

They were just close enough that the Elysian could curiously inspect the arcane prince. Yeonjun could see the little freckle by Soobin’s nose, leaning into the other’s space as he was. Although Soobin was looking in Yeonjun’s direction, he knew that the other wasn’t actually seeing him there, and that was okay. If all Soobin needed was to  _ know _ that Yeonjun was there, then it wasn’t necessary for Yeonjun to do anything else. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered, ruffling Soobin’s soft hair. When he stepped away from Soobin, giving him a little bit more space, the flowers at their feet rustled with the movement. “I’m in front of you.” 

Yeonjun wanted to laugh, eyes squishing into little crescents when he saw Soobin’s cutely confused expression. It almost looked like Soobin was staring straight at him, which Yeonjun knew was just untrue. He was probably fixed on the fence behind him, or the swing or something. Only Elysians could see other Elysians in their natural forms. The whole… opaque and fleshy forms were mostly for diplomatic purposes anyways.

He was captivated by Soobin. The arcane prince, they’d said, held more potent magic in his little finger than all of Evenfaun, all of Avianna, Chatoya, and even Elysia. Whereas Yeonjun had a core made of lightning, the legend had it that Soobin was filled to the brim with starlight. Just as Evenfaun had been created from a star falling into a frozen lake and igniting the land with its care and warmth, Soobin was capable of just that. 

Even Yeonjun couldn’t help but feel so understood by Soobin.

When the other’s magic rippled out like fireflies in the night, those twinkling little spores that Soobin had shown him over a year ago on the roots of a tree, Yeonjun’s breath caught in his throat. The other’s fingers were soft, even though he spent most of his daylight out in this massive garden, tending to life. On Yeonjun’s cheek, he could feel something shift and change in himself. He felt more present, but not in the form he took when visiting Elysia. 

He felt like just, himself.

“How are you doing this?” Yeonjun asked. The light that Soobin had given him turned his form into the beautiful aurora back home’s equivalent. He’d never seem himself to be so visible, yet at the same time… in his regular form. This was Elysian, no doubtedly. The way that his limbs were still fuzzy at the edges, like they wanted to be carried away with the breeze, were a sure-tell. 

“I felt like I heard your voice echoing,” Soobin answered. When the warmth of Soobin’s palm pulled away from Yeonjun’s cheek and chin, he could feel the static from where their skin had previously just met. They were silly teenagers, messing around in a garden. It was still incredible, the pull that Yeonjun had felt toward Soobin. Like the tide reaching and reaching for the shore, Yeonjun knew that he could trust Soobin to be  _ there _ .

Yeonjun tilted his head, pouting in thought as Soobin continued to study him. “Even like this?” He asked. “Can you come find me? I’ve never heard of anyone being able to reveal Elysians before.”

Now stealthed into the wind again, Yeonjun fluttered this way and that, letting his feet barely skim the floor as he turned in front of Soobin and walked around him before down the rows of pretty flowers. Their petals weren’t as vibrant as during the day, but the moonlight still had them shimmering with a kind of magic that Yeonjun knew was purely from Evenfaun. 

“Watch my flowers.”

Yeonjun’s shoulders spiked up, and he carefully set his foot down onto a clear patch of dirt, nearly crushing some of the pretty petals below. He knew he could leave it to Soobin, to remind him to be gentle.

Soobin was someone that Yeonjun could have never experienced, not in a million lifetimes except for this one, and he didn’t regret it. Even after walking down the field, out toward the eastern shore with Soobin’s hand in his own, something felt complete between the both of them. They’d made a promise in the comfort that they shared, to always be by each others’ sides. That was something Yeonjun would definitely miss by the end of the summer. 

That night, it was as if Soobin had seen Yeonjun for the first time, and in an entirely new feeling to Yeonjun, he’d felt truly seen for who he was. Instead of the fleshy body that they took the form of, an ancient trait from being children of the wind as Elysians were, Soobin looked straight into his soul. 

On that night at the broken gate with Soobin, after setting the little bear free and sharing his pulse with Soobin’s, Yeonjun’s heart genuinely beat in his chest. Even in the dark of the night and in the danger they faced at the splintered wood, the world was beautiful and vibrant with color.

Yeonjun didn’t care to learn too much about Evenfaun, knowing that this would never be a permanent place of residence for himself. There were other things to worry about, back at home. He had to think about all the lessons he’d missed by being away from the academy for a month, and how much he would have to train his lightning core in order to please the people whose eyes would be on him. He had to keep up, and he had to do it for his parents who also expected much from him.

He trained to rule Elysia one day, and he wouldn’t be a disappointment. 

Yeonjun sat with Soobin in the library as the other kept himself slumped over a book. Since their intense moment, leaving the safety of Soobin’s garden, the other had really dived into learning more about the world and about his arcane self. 

Soobin didn’t know about the pressures of being an Elysian, but he did know the pressures about being a prince. Their similarities linked them, Yeonjun realized. He wanted nothing more than to support Soobin, just as Soobin unknowingly supported him. “I’m so sorry,” Soobin sighed, stretching himself out over the book.

Yeonjun raised his eyebrows. The library was stunning and enchanted, but all he could see was Soobin past its pretty glass and decorations. He looked exhausted, and had been since their harsh talk at the garden’s gate. 

“I get it,” Yeonjun reassured. 

Truly, he understood what it was like to put effort into pleasing others. He felt guilty in a way, for driving Soobin to work this hard. 

But Soobin didn’t know about the Rot. He didn’t see the corruption past the northern boundaries of Elysia that they’d kept out of this sacred land for so long. Even the wonders of Starfall were nothing compared to the nightmares beyond the northern shore. 

Yeonjun ran his hand through Soobin’s hair. He didn’t want to add to the younger’s worries about the world. 

Maybe it was better if Soobin stayed here, not knowing. Maybe it was better if Soobin found out about it himself.

“Rest a while. When it’s time for dinner, I’ll wake you up.” He didn’t wait for Soobin to reply, instead pulling a book closer to himself from the side of the desk they were sharing. It was an interesting read about the beginning of Evenfaun, and its pages were old and thick.

“You can read it to me,” Soobin sleepily suggested, already making himself comfortable by pillowing his head in his arms. It seemed like only seconds before Soobin’s breaths had evened out into sleep, and Yeonjun grabbed the blanket from behind his chair to drape over Soobin’s shoulders.

Just as Soobin drowsily mumbled, he began to read.

In the morning, he was told that the prince had overslept, and that he wouldn’t be seeing the Elysians away this time, and Yeonjun had understood. He couldn’t find it in himself to be sad - not when they could always talk with each other through their little letters and gifts. 

Yeonjun made sure to hand the present off to Soobin’s parents, grateful despite his newfound wariness of the rulers’ true powers. The stunning pink magic that he’d seen in that clawed hand was something that Yeonjun could never forget. 

“Please tell him thank you for being a great host,” Yeonjun said politely, handing the Queens the card that accompanied his late gift.

“We’ll see to it that he receives his gift well,” one of the Queens reassured with a smile. Yeonjun wondered how someone who had the world’s gentleness in her expression could have been so malicious through that bear trap. Although unfamiliar with the methods of trapping animals and keeping them out, as Elysia was not the most safe place for most of them, Yeonjun knew that the force into that little bear’s leg was overkill at the very least. “You made our Soobin very happy this past month. We would be proud to host Elysians again.” 

With that, the Queen turned to Yeonjun’s father, the both of them acknowledging each other with a little nod. “For another talk of a bright future. Safe journeys.”

There was something important to discuss on the day before Yeonjun’s birthday, and judging by the way that he was called by his father, it wasn’t for a joyous occasion. When he met them in the front hall of their palace of stone, the first thing that Yeonjun noticed was how everyone was standing around. Whatever the message was, it had to have been quick. Or maybe, no one was comfortable enough to sit and relax.

The people of Elysia seemed to glow despite the lack of light, and even though his father was in a good temperament for the entire day, he could see the cracks of lightning hidden behind his mother’s eyes. She stared right at Yeonjun’s father as if she were enraged, but the soft smile on her face could never be replaced.

The next thing that Yeonjun noticed was a rather short girl whose posture was incredible straight. She seemed trained to be around the Elysian royalty, though Yeonjun hadn’t seen her before in any of his classes. It was that, or she must have been in a remedial class, if Yeonjun hadn’t been introduced. Despite Elysia’s massive size, Yeonjun was familiar and somewhat popular with the people around his age.

Politely, he nodded to her, though paid her no mind as his father called his name once again. 

“Yeonjun. This is your sister.”

Sister?

Yeonjun slowly, curiously looked at the girl. She seemed confident, if not just a tiny bit shy in her expression. What part of them could be siblings? How had his parents kept a sibling away from him, and for this long at that. He was already a teenager, a sturdy Elysian soul who had trained to be the perfect child of the wind, the person who could one day rule and lead Elysia with all eyes on him. 

But Elysia ruled in sibling pairs, and the other ruler, Yeonjun’s aunt, had no husband, wife, or children. So where did this one come from?

The girl in front of Yeonjun had high cheekbones, just as himself, but Yeonjun could see nothing familiar on her face. She was shorter than Yeonjun, but she watched him with equally careful eyes. Her hands were clasped in front of her, and as far as Yeonjun was concerned, she was so dainty that she could be nothing more than a simple breeze. He wondered what was so amazing about her, that she had to have been a secret for so long. To be revealed to Yeonjun on the eve of his fifteenth birthday, that he had a sibling who was also similarly aged…

“How old are you?” Yeonjun curiously asked.

“I turned fifteen this June.” 

Yeonjun turned his head to his parents. His father, steel jawed, cut Yeonjun with a sharp look while his mother tried to offer a peaceful looking smile to his new sister.

Half sister. The redness around his own mother’s eyes seemed to tell that more than anything else.

“I’m Yeonjun,” He introduced himself, trying to work through the confused, foggy mess in his brain. 

“I know,” she said, seeming to giggle into her words. “I know much about you already.” 

Yeonjun wished he could enjoy being well-known, but at that moment, he only resented it.

First impressions were everything, and Yeonjun wished he could find a single good thing about this stranger to mark in his brain. The only thought that circulated through the grey and the fog in there was hurt and near-betrayal. There were too many questions: why.

Why was she kept a secret from Yeonjun for so long?

Why was he forced to learn how to rule by himself, if it wasn’t his entire burden to shoulder?

Why did his parents allow him to be tormented with the idea of being Elysia’s next  _ Traitor  _ for all this time?

Yeonjun could only blink between his parents, looking at his half-sister only after the silence became so uncomfortable that even she was shifting on her feet. “Sorry to have met you so late,” Yeonjun said. “I’m sure you must be tired, but should I show you around?”

His mother’s eyes flashed dangerously, but his father pat Yeonjun appreciatively on the shoulder. “That’s a good idea, son. She’ll have the room in the same wing as you for now, until she feels comfortable enough to choose a room of her own.”

His feet didn’t do so much as glide along the floor, eager to get out of the room with his suddenly new  _ burden _ beside him. He didn’t rush, not when he could accidentally leave her behind, but a smaller part of Yeonjun wondered how terrible it would be if he just… left her there.

But he didn’t. Elysians were fast, and their tour wasn’t very long at all. The both of them left iridescent tracks behind them as they navigated the hallways and corridors. Finally, in the open room before the more residential area of the palace, the both of them stopped. 

“It can be confusing at first,” Yeonjun explained, gesturing to the beautifully connected tunnels and exposed, ceilingless sections of the Elysian palace, “but if you’re lost, the wind will guide you this way or that. I guess that’s normal though, right?”

“Elysia is beautiful,” his half-sister sighed. When she tucked her hair behind her ear, even that small motion, just a shudder in the air, was dainty too. Yeonjun wondered if her form would dissipate at even the smallest breeze. “Thank you for showing me around, but I… I want to say, thank you for being nice to me, even for enduring as much as you have this far. Thank you.” 

She frowned, looking conflicted as she played with her fingernails.

Yeonjun wanted to resent her. He wanted to hate her very existence.

He just couldn’t do it. He had no true reason to.

“I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to… exist,” Yeonjun frowned. “I’m surprised you were kept a secret for as long as you were.”

“Oh, we actually met a few times,” She laughed uneasily. “Your Aunt raised me. Down the mountain, at the northern shore. But we’ve played together as kids before Academy started. It’s alright if you don’t remember, it’s not like it mattered so much. We were probably… just about seven or eight years old?”

Yeonjun’s breath caught in his throat. 

The northern shore was filled with nothing but shame and ink. That was what Yeonjun was told and what he remembered- that it drags its black sludge in from the water, like nightmarish beings with bright red eyes. Off the shore, the massive island was where the world’s biggest shames were kept. Elysia was the keeper of peace that forced the evil back to the north, but the wind that whipped dangerously down that side of the mountain screamed and moaned for something that no one could decipher. 

The air over the ocean mourned, but the sky sang in its aurora as a sign of hope and strength.

As far as Yeonjun knew, the northern shore was inhabitable. He eyed his sibling carefully again, and the absence of lies in her eyes sent a shiver down his spine. Instead, he found a strength and a similar pain, dug deep in the sad sparks of lightning in her eyes.

Yeonjun desperately tried to draw on his memory, yet everything came out blank from the overwhelming contradictions and conclusions being drawn in his brain. “Sorry for not remembering,” he apologized. “But… maybe you can tell me more about the northern shore sometime.”

His half-sister was sweet, seemingly not at all bothered by suddenly being introduced to Yeonjun as she nodded in understanding. Yeonjun began to lead her down the hall again, toward one of the rooms near his own but far enough that he could have his own privacy. “There should be everything you need, and my room is the fourth down from this one. You can always just knock if you need anything?”

“Thank you,” she smiled, pausing in the doorway. “And… Yeonjun-ssi... We don’t know each other, but I know that this must be heavy on your shoulders. I won’t be in your way. I also… didn’t ask for any of this to happen.”

Her smile faltered, for just a second, but Yeonjun’s sharp eyes had caught onto its flicker. The lightning in her eyes dimmed. Despite the circumstances, Yeonjun could at least agree with that. 

“Thank you,” Yeonjun breathed. The breath that left his lungs carried the weight from his shoulders, and he wished for it to be taken far, far away. 

Yeonjun didn’t hesitate to let the wind carry him through the stone tunnels of Elysia. The air that rushed through echoed eerily around Yeonjun as he hurried to find his parents. The air around him filled with static dread, and the crackling of lightning around his eyes wouldn’t die down, no matter how many breaths Yeonjun managed to take. 

They were outside of the palace, atop the waterfall that shielded them, and illuminated like they were the aurora themselves. Their Elysian forms shimmered uneasily, almost as if they were the ones hidden behind the shimmering mist of the waterfall. This late into the evening, the water sparkled and only answered to the moon.

“You kept her at the northern shore,” Yeonjun interrupted.

His parents turned to face him, and the look of pure agony on his mother’s face had him frozen to his spot. 

“You… really kept her at the northern shore? That’s ridiculously dangerous.”

“Watch how you’re talking to your parents,” his father snapped. “If you understood a thing, you would be grateful.”

“What am I supposed to be grateful for?” Yeonjun carefully asked, eyes flickering between the pleading look on his mother’s face to the enraged lines and creases of his father’s. “For this… this birthday surprise?”

“For keeping you from being a Traitor.”

Yeonjun took a slight step back. His heel dipped into the water behind him and wet the bottom edge of his pants. It hurt when other people accused him of being malicious, but the wound cut deeper in his heart whenever the words came from his parents. “When have I given you a reason to believe I’d become a Traitor?” He asked, disbelief making his visage waver.

The air was thick with static, and this time when his father put his heavy hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder and regarded him with such distaste, Yeonjun didn’t drop his eyes. The two of them bristled with lightning, and the clouds overhead warned of their poor behavior, but Yeonjun didn’t dare stop.

Was his existence a mistake? He didn’t ask to be treated this way. “Do you hate me that much?” he challenged. “Do you hate my half-sister as much, to send her to the northern shore? Did you expect one or both of us to die before now?”

The wind whistled, low and warning the both of them, and a fluttering breeze dragged itself around their feet. The water around them seemed just as angry as Yeonjun, as his father took deep breaths in, flaring his nostrils. “If you’re unfit for this position, son, say the word.” 

Scared, the small breeze climbed Yeonjun’s spine and settled a gift and a letter on his shoulder, to which his father quickly snatched and tore open. “Wait- that’s mine!” Yeonjun gasped, recognizing the careful packaging that always came with Soobin’s letters. His fingers barely touched the paper before his father ripped it to shreds.

“Enough playing games!” His father roared. The clouds overhead darkened. “Stop pretending like this world is perfect. You are complacent. If you believed I did all of this out of spite, you have nothing but childish naivety in that skull of yours.”

“I haven’t played games, I’ve done everything I could to make you happy!” 

The long nights spent awake studying, or on mountaintops channeling lightning over and over again until his fingertips singed and he could barely stand on his feet, Yeonjun could only think of that. All of the relationships that he had, the falseness and fear behind their eyes that Yeonjun had so often tried to convince himself had never existed, Yeonjun could see it clearly. People loved him- no they wanted to love him. They feared Yeonjun, the next Traitor. They wanted Yeonjun to be their salvation but only saw the pain that he would bring.

But Yeonjun tried so hard. He tried to be gentle. He had learned that lesson in gentleness through Soobin, and the small package that remained in his father’s strong hands begged to be in gentle hands again. Yeonjun tried to cherish the world. He tried to be the best.

He grit his teeth, biting down on his tongue when his father took a closer look at the little gift. The king scoffed and poured its contents down the waterfall. Yeonjun felt the sting behind his eyes as he reached out to snatch the remaining bits of it from his father’s hands.

Yeonjun should have expected it, when the sky split open, and from his father’s veins, the anger and pain and electricity mapped his own tissue and sent Yeonjun once again to the ground.

On Yeonjun’s birthday, his half-sister appeared at his bedroom door, knocking so quietly that Yeonjun would have missed it if he’d done so much as breathed a little too loud. Her eyes were quiet and sad, no longer sparkling with the strong lightning from yesterday. “It’s your birthday, little brother,” she explained when Yeonjun gave her a questioning look.

His joints felt stiff from yesterday’s punishments. “Oh, right,” he nervously laughed, purposely keeping most of his body behind the door. 

“May I come in?” She asked, cautious but unrelenting. Her eagerness shone in her visage, making her shimmer in light purple as if there would be no greater joy than wishing him a happy birthday. 

Yeonjun nodded, pulling the door opened for her, not willing to hurt her feelings, not when she’d been understanding of him yesterday, before his argument with his father. She didn’t have the same glassy look of fear over her eyes as the rest of the Elysians did around Yeonjun, and Yeonjun, despite not knowing her or her intentions, couldn’t deny a little bit of company.

“I’ll be quick,” she promised, closing the door behind herself but remaining right there instead of continuing inside. “I don’t mean to hurt your pride by eavesdropping but… Here.”

Her hands, delicate and slender fingered, uncurled around two somethings. She deposited it gently into Yeonjun’s palms when he reached out for them. The gift from Soobin’s package, just some bulbs that Yeonjun had no idea how to care for or plant, were obviously roughed up but still in one piece.

Later, when his half-sister was gone and Yeonjun was left to stare at the two bulbs of some plant, Yeonjun penned one last letter and sneakily sent it with the breeze. If he’d let a few tears sink into his desk, then no one was there to see it.

It wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t allowed to play around and send letters to Soobin anymore. 

He didn’t want the other to know just how much he was struggling; Soobin seemed to have a lot on his plate to begin with, especially with keeping that secret with Yeonjun about the hand that they’d seen in the garden. Sometimes, perched way up in the mountains, Yeonjun thought he could make out the shape of the Queen’s ringed fingers in the dark shadows of the clouds.

But that would just be silly.

Making assumptions are the downfall of any logical person; that was a lesson that Yeonjun had learned. He didn’t want to be anywhere around his parents or half-sibling, not entirely upset with the secret that they kept from him, but not pleased with the new turn of events. He had his own responsibilities to worry about; the dark shadows that were creeping through the water, across the northern coast and into their mountainous territory was his father’s current concern. 

By extension, it would be Yeonjun’s too.

Yeonjun had no choice but to quickly grow up. The stone tunnels of Elysia and the winds song that whistled down its halls became nothing more than colorless and monochrome again. 

Something was coming from the north, they said. From that island of desolation, even Yeonjun’s father and aunt were unable to keep back. They called it a cry from the north, like something was mourning and sending its icy wind here. No matter how much the Elysians attempted to keep back the thick clouds of snow, they were filled to the brim with pain and dumped the ice over the land.

“I don’t understand why the clouds won’t behave,” his half-sister had confessed to him one night. The two of them sadly admired the now frozen-over waterfall. It cast a shadow into the tunnels, but during the day made brilliant prisms along its walls. Yeonjun didn’t know if the color was a blessing or a curse. “It’s too early for the cold… I’ve never seen such a thing on the coast before.”

“It’s been quiet,” Yeonjun added. He had his hands shoved into his pockets. Even as children of the wind, they were susceptible to the elements, and Yeonjun’s fingers had begun to numb over time. “The Rot, I mean. Do you think this cold is supposed to be a quick fix for it?”

“It might be,” she frowned, leaning her arms onto the open window sill as they looked over the now frozen mountaintops. “Is it just me or… does this feel Elysian?”

Yeonjun chewed on the inside of his cheek. He hadn’t even humored the idea of this strange weather pattern being the cause of some Elysian. Whoever it was that was messing around with nature would no doubt face terrible consequences from his father and aunt. “It does, a little bit. The way they’re dumping the wind and snow down everywhere, it’s like there’s no path. It’s uncontrolled.”

The two of them left the conversation at that. If the idea was just between them, then Yeonjun and his half-sister didn’t plan on sharing it with others, especially their father. The days only became colder, and worse in the panic that spread through Elysia’s upper command. Controlling the cold and the wind that had suddenly blown in from the north was proving to be near impossible, even as early into the year as it was.

The cold was sending sheets of snow across Avianna, Starfall, and Evenfaun. They had only managed to subside the thick, snowy clouds on the back side of Elysia some time during the winter. Yeonjun hesitated then, having been so caught up with the strange weather sequence that he’d missed Soobin’s birthday too. Did Soobin even want to talk to him anymore?

The letters that came in were intercepted and ripped in front of Yeonjun as a discouragement of ‘playing around.’ There was too much color in Yeonjun’s life, and he’d been warned of that before. 

He thought about Soobin. He wondered if he was okay. He wondered if his birthday was spent warmly despite the unexplainable cold. The days soon after Yeonjun resigned to his lonely responsibilities only melded together.

How many birthdays did Yeonjun celebrate after then?

He could hardly remember. 

The cold returned like clockwork, early in September when it shouldn’t have, dumping more snow and ice everywhere, even turning the ocean into an odd, chunky slush of frozen dark. The Elysians struggled to contain it, and with the years that passed, the cold front only became stronger and stronger, and Yeonjun and his half-sister watched painfully from above as the cold ate into the land below.

Yeonjun moved from lesson to lesson and spoke minimally to people aside from his half-sister, who he’d learned was genuinely sweet and had not a single rude bone in her body (though competitive bones, she had many). Even on the coldest nights though, he found himself slipping away from Elysia’s center, scaling down the stone toward the northern shore. 

Yeonjun knew it was dangerous to go alone, but pretended not to know how his half-sister would sneak down the mountain with him and watch him as he trained at the coast. The wind didn’t behave just for anyone, and Yeonjun was constantly proving himself worthy. Even when the mist of the ocean became thick, or when it stormed so badly that the water splashed up over the edges of the cliffs, Yeonjun stayed to train.

When the clouds finally listened to Yeonjun’s lightning core, they gathered together in a dark black, and lightning split the sky open so brightly that it turned the entire north side of the mountain white with its light.

Yeonjun wouldn’t be a Traitor. He would save Elysia himself. He would take the Rot and eliminate it forever. He would complete what no one else could do, if just to prove that he could do it. 

The ice and cold that came had felt like a punishment to him and all of Elysia. Although he and his sister discussed the possibility of it being from an unknown force, Yeonjun could feel a static pull from the north and a sad song carried by the wind. It met him at the northern coast, especially on days where Yeonjun sat on the cliff and felt like there was nothing left for him.

He wondered what Soobin would think, to see him forcefully raising the stormy skies over the seas. He wondered what Soobin would think, to see his veins brimming with lightning, enough to bleed the darkness and cold out of the northern coast all on his own. 

Would he be proud of him? 

Yeonjun had told Soobin that he needed to know what goes on in this world. He shouldn’t be fed lies. 

When Yeonjun was seventeen, his father announced that they were being requested in Evenfaun for talks about the uncontrollable winters, and Yeonjun’s heart and chest bled for the friendship he knew he had severed in his attempt to become the best Elysian. He wondered if Soobin knew that they were finally going to be able to meet again. He wondered if Soobin even cared.

Yeonjun had never stopped caring.

On their return to Evenfaun, Yeonjun could barely concentrate. From the recent attacks at the northern shores, he was skeptical with his father’s decision to leave the bay to his aunt and half-sister to deal with alone. He didn’t doubt their ruling abilities, or how his aunt had once again taken his half sister under her wing, but something still didn’t sit right with Yeonjun. There was also the matter that he was expected to be less of a child now. He had responsibilities this time, of meeting the Queens and the advisor, and building a good rapport with Evenfaun locals in order to establish a good image of Elysia. 

Yeonjun had been scolded enough. His lightning core shook, remembering the storm surge that his father had warned him with. 

Each initial greeting with the Evenfaun royalty had been the same, but unlike before, they arrived late into a December night. 

The Queens and the prince received them all in the front hall, and Yeonjun, though less smiley and more serious than the years before, very politely greeted them in return. The decorations were the same. Everything about this place was the same. If he closed his eyes, he could remember the shy, laurel-headed Soobin that had fumbled over his introduction and brought him into the garden, ceremonial clothing and all.

This Soobin looked at Yeonjun with sharper eyes. The flowers in his hair were a bit different than Yeonjun remembered, but the smile that he’d seen last time was nowhere to be found. The look of indifference that he gave Yeonjun was painful, but Yeonjun could understand why. 

“You’ve gotten so tall,” Yeonjun said first. Whereas last time, he and Soobin were similar heights, Soobin was clearly a centimeter or two taller now. Soobin pursed his lips, like he was unsure of what to say, and Yeonjun would give him the whole world’s time to figure it out, now that they were alone.

Or rather, they were as “alone” as they could possibly be in that moment. The shy kid peeking out beside Soobin was definitely a new addition.

“Who’s this?” he asked, breaking the silence with a curious tilt to his head. He took a little step closer, noticing the pretty gold of the other’s cloak, and how it was obviously handcrafted just for him. It didn’t so much as hide the mole on the other’s neck, or the ones on his face. The kid was cherubic, and Yeonjun couldn’t help but want to pinch the other’s cheek. “Oh, cutie, you’re so cute. What’s someone like you doing around this tall meanie?”

“ _ I’m _ the meanie?” Soobin asked incredulously, scrunching his nose. “Big words coming from an Elysian.”

Yeonjun frowned, sheepishly ducking his shoulders in, not wanting to press Soobin’s buttons any further. It wouldn’t be fair to him to be told the reason for his disappearance, at least not at the moment. They’d just begun to reacquaint themselves with each other, and Yeonjun wouldn’t put it past himself to say that they’d changed.

Time tends to do that to people anyways. 

“Life isn’t just about playing around,” he answered instead, finding himself fixing the top tie of the kid’s cloak. “Really, who are you though?”

“I’m Hueningkai.”

It was only then that Yeonjun noticed the little flutter of white feathers behind the boy, and the way that Soobin protectively held out his elbow for the other to hold. 

“Hueningkai,” he repeated, eyeing Soobin briefly before looking back toward the kid. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Yeonjun, of Elysia.”

“I know,” Hueningkai said, his eyes seeming to positively gleam. “I saw your folded paper, and the winged puma. They’re the prettiest things I’ve seen.”

There it was again, that prickle of annoyance in Yeonjun’s chest. 

He wished that he wouldn’t be the only one unknowing. It seemed to him that everyone claimed to know him already, but the truth was that they only knew  _ of _ Yeonjun. It was uncomfortable, being in Soobin’s presence but already having assumptions made about him.

“Thank you. I’m surprised it has held up for this long,” Yeonjun answered, shooting Soobin a questioning look.

Soobin didn’t keep his gaze for long. “It’s durable enough,” he commented, sighing when he took a peek down the hallway. It was just the three of them, now that Yeonjun’s father had left with the Queens, and their crew was taking their belongings to the right places. “Do you want to sit in the library? The weather isn’t really ideal for a garden walk and… you have a lot of explaining to do.”

Yeonjun’s shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t dare let his head lower. Soobin deserved an explanation, surely. Their relationship had been strong despite the distance, but it was Yeonjun’s fault that it’d failed. 

He thought about his punishment, his passage into becoming more kingly. The secrets in his family kept Yeonjun up at night, and this sudden redirection of his life had him feeling lost instead of that confidence that he once felt before. He hated it.

“Okay,” Yeonjun breathed with a small nod. 

When Soobin turned away from Yeonjun and began to lead them down the hall without sparing another look at Yeonjun, Hueningkai, whose arms were linked with Soobin, sadly snuck a smile at Yeonjun.

Bitterly, Yeonjun thought that he looked like nothing more than a puppy.

Pitifully, Yeonjun knew that he was just projecting.

The library was just as Yeonjun remembered it.

Although called the library, there was much reason for Yeonjun to believe that it was Soobin’s family greenhouse of sorts. The many panels of glass windows looked out into the garden, and the double reflection cast outside made it seem like the floating planters and decorations and enchanted candles were out there too, dancing on the steps of the garden. The never-ending snow, this strange winter, was even no match for the orange glow of the library.

There were two staircases leading to the second floor of the library. As Yeonjun walked, he kept his fingers on the smoothed wood of the stair railing, seeming how the Evenfauns had etchings of the universe and the stars like a mural on the first floor’s tiles. It was more apparent when Yeonjun reached the top and looked over the railing onto the second floor. The library’s open layout and vaulted ceilings made this place look like the moon herself was shining her beams right through the glass and mixing her silver glow with the warmth of the enchanted candles. 

The three of them sat at one of the tables, but not before Soobin’s winged friend gathered some blankets from a chest near the staircase. 

It was too different. 

He sat across from Soobin this time, but the table felt kilometers long. The blanket he took from Hueningkai’s offering hands felt worn, like it wouldn’t do a thing to keep his warmth.

Soobin looked at him expectantly, after settling a blanket over his and Hueningkai’s laps. 

“So,” Yeonjun began, taking the hint. “Well… I just…” 

The silence he was met with made Yeonjun want to squirm. This Soobin was different from the Soobin he’d befriended. That precious person was encouraging and gentle. He would have let Yeonjun know that his stammering, the upset he felt in his chest, would pass too. But they were kids, then, what did they really know about fear?

“Do you mind if we have this conversation privately?” Yeonjun asked instead, feeling heat all the way up to his ears. He didn’t need this new kid, no matter how genuine and kind he might actually be, to witness an Elysian beg for forgiveness. The way that the feathered guy fluffed up in his chair seemed to only make Soobin more upset.

“I would mind,” Soobin frowned. 

Yeonjun blinked, laughing almost pitifully at himself. “Oh. I know you’re looking for answers, but, this isn’t against you, Hueningkai, I just don’t know you well enough to share some things. In front of you.”

Hueningkai’s wings fluttered against the chair, and the red in his face and uncertain smile made it obvious to Yeonjun that he’d made him uncomfortable. Yeonjun frowned, taking a closer look at Hueningkai. Wherever this person had come from, just the fact that he had to stay by Soobin’s side for even a personal conversation made Yeonjun irrationally upset.

“It’s not like Hueningkai hasn’t heard about you before, hyung,” Soobin frowned, placing a hand on Hueningkai’s shoulder. 

“I understand that,” Yeonjun carefully said, eyebrows coming together in his obvious confusion. “You could have told him whatever you wanted about me. That’s alright and I understand it. But I still have no idea who this kid is. You have to understand that too.”

Hueningkai stood from his chair, red in the face from embarrassment. Despite the chill in the room, Yeonjun could see some sweat beading on the other’s face. “It’s okay, hyung, I can wait just downstairs and it’ll be alright,” he said, looking between Yeonjun and Soobin. His wings wouldn’t stop fidgeting as he took the fallen blanket from his lap and crowded it onto Soobin instead. “I’m… really sorry.”

Soobin shot Yeonjun a nasty look as Hueningkai practically rushed down the staircase. “You better be quick.”

Yeonjun’s mouth hung open. 

“Who is this kid?” Yeonjun asked again. “I hurt your feelings by asking him to leave.”

“I thought you were going to apologize for something.”

“I was,” Yeonjun sighed through his nose, leaning back into the library chair and crossing his arms. “I can’t ‘make it quick.’ There’s a lot to talk about. If you want to bring your... whatever he is-”

“He’s my friend, Yeonjun hyung.” Soobin pressed his lips together, but Yeonjun saw that unfamiliar look in the other’s eyes again. It was as if the life that he’d seen in them before when they were kids was taken away. His exhaustion and anger… Yeonjun knew what it felt like, but so much time had passed since they’d last talked that Soobin felt like a stranger. “He’s not a  _ something _ , he’s a  _ someone _ .” 

Yeonjun knew that he was being stubborn. 

He could feel his heart beating in his chest, reminding him that if he really was apologetic, he wouldn’t be egging Soobin on like how he was. “Okay. I’m sorry,” Yeonjun sighed. “I’m sorry, Soobin. I don’t know why I got upset.”

The arcane prince seemed to slump in his chair all at once. His posture, once perfect, melted into a tired mess on the table. Soobin barely picked his head up to look at Yeonjun, and when he did, that anger in Soobin’s eyes read clearly: hurt.

He could understand Soobin’s pain.

Yeonjun had hurt Soobin, had betrayed his trust by promising to be there for him forever, and then leaving when things were too comfortable. If their friendship meant as much as it did to Yeonjun as it did to Soobin, then Yeonjun should have taken the punishment from his father and continued to try. Yeonjun mentally beat himself up. 

If only he’d tried harder. 

“Soobin. I’m sorry for going away,” Yeonjun restarted. “A lot has been happening in Elysia. If I had the option to return your letters, I would have. I didn’t mean to make you… wait on me or something. If I responded, then…”

“Not even to say that you were alright? After I worried about you, hyung? What is going  _ on _ up there?” 

Yeonjun watched Soobin’s expression carefully. Here was Yeonjun’s first friend, the person who made the monochrome world seem so vibrant. Soobin had believed in Yeonjun, and Yeonjun believed in Soobin. Yeonjun never stopped worrying over Soobin, even if they had been so far apart. To him, there could be no one else.

The inky blackness and sludge at the shores taunted Yeonjun’s memory. Channeling the lightning himself, creating a storm surge to shove the darkness back into the ocean where it belonged… Was there really anything honorable left of Yeonjun? 

He remembered his father’s words carefully:  _ Elysia is a fortress of stone, ice, and the brilliant cloudy skies, and you will not taint that image. To share struggles and wear them is weak. That is not the image of Elysia that anyone else needs to see. _

How could Yeonjun explain to Soobin that Elysia was suffering to keep the Rot away? And when the Rot was finally at bay, the ice and cold swept over them as if ignoring even the wind’s pleas.

“I… can’t tell you. What’s happening,” Yeonjun said, reaching out for Soobin when the other already stood. “Soobin, please just listen to me! I’m not purposely keeping things back from you. If you really want to know, I’ll tell you.”

“Then I don’t even want to know. If you’ll leave again, knowing is useless to me.”

He left Yeonjun to find his own room that night. 

People could keep their secrets; that was okay. It wasn’t easy to forget the hurt on Soobin’s face, especially after learning how Soobin had worried for him, just as he’d worried for Soobin. Soobin might have needed comfort, and without saying it out loud, he might have needed Yeonjun. And Yeonjun wasn’t there. He would have been able to relate and understand, if Yeonjun could have reached out for Soobin and just explained.

Yeonjun didn’t want to regret, but he felt the ache of it deeply in his bones. 

He couldn’t sleep.

Yeonjun turned himself this way and that, uncomfortable despite the softness of the cushions and the thick warmth of the blankets. His world was gray again. He’d shattered Soobin’s trust in him, and now, Yeonjun saw no reason for color.

The wind rattled the glass window once, and Yeonjun stood to secure the lock when the sound didn’t let up. Through the frost on the glass, the moonlight illuminated the entire garden below, right down to its shiny stone steps. Yeonjun sighed, his breath leaving behind a little moisture on the glass. Just as it disappeared, right before Yeonjun turned back to bed, he saw something move way out there in the garden.

Yeonjun watched as the flutter of white wings beat against the snowy night. 

The next few days, Yeonjun spent in solitude, doing tasks assigned by his father as well as being escorted around by some of the guards of Evenfaun. It helped to get his mind off of things, like seeing Hueningkai’s wings under the moon, but whenever he’d passed by Hueningkai alone in the hallway, the other didn’t mention anything to make it seem like he knew that Yeonjun saw.

“Ah, excuse me, Yeonjun-ssi?” 

Yeonjun paused, already halfway down the staircase to the first floor when the small voice had called for him at the bottom. There, clutching a thick book to his chest, was that feathered boy again. “Oh? Wait, let me meet you down there,” Yeonjun said, hurrying down the rest of the steps. 

Hueningkai shifted on his feet a little, like he was uncertain about speaking to Yeonjun. His teeth were chattering, and Yeonjun chalked it up to the other feeling intimidated or afraid to speak in front of him, which is something that Yeonjun wasn’t unfamiliar with. “Don’t be nervous,” he sighed, gentle despite his uneasiness of the other. “You can call me hyung, you know?”

“Oh. Well, Yeonjun hyung, then,” Hueningkai said, like he was testing the words out on his tongue. His feathers rustled behind him, sending little waves across the other’s golden cloak. “I… wanted to apologize for causing a scene in the library.”

Yeonjun blinked, watching the other’s cheeks flush pink in shame. “You didn’t cause a scene,” he promised, reaching out to pat the other’s shoulder. “If anything, it might have been me.” Yeonjun laughed at himself, mouth pressed in nervous embarrassment.

“No, it wasn’t you, I promise,” Hueningkai said instead with a shake of his head. His hair bounced around, especially when Hueningkai had begun to fidget with the book. “You see, I… I actually don’t know what this is. I have a curse or something, I suppose, and he’d saved me some while ago. So if I’m separated from Soobin hyung- er… the prince. My body can’t regulate its heat.”

From the way that Hueningkai continued to tremble, or how he stammered around his clattering teeth, Yeonjun shouldn’t have felt as surprised as he was. With his eyebrows raised, Yeonjun moved out of the way of the staircase. “I’m sorry for judging you. Really, I mean it,” he frowned, once again reaching for the top tie of the other’s cloak and adjusting it more snugly for the kid.

Hueningkai seemed appreciative, smiling anyways. “It’s a weird situation, but um… I wanted to invite you to the library tonight? We can have a sleepover with the three of us. From what Soobin hyung has said, I think it’s best if we were all together to talk and just play games?”

Yeonjun snorted. Playing games, when he was supposed to be here for business? “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. Soobin is still quite upset with me, and for good reason, so-”

“Please,” Hueningkai pleaded, holding onto Yeonjun’s arm. “He... Actually, the both of you need help relaxing.”

When Hueningkai sighed, Yeonjun felt bad for making fun of the other’s idea in the first place. He patted the top of Hueningkai’s hand, carefully removing it from his sleeve. If Soobin was so tired that Hueningkai was even asking  _ Yeonjun _ for help, then Yeonjun would have no honor if he denied.

“Okay. It actually sounds kind of fun? I’ll wait around in the library later for the both of you,” Yeonjun promised with a small, yet sincere smile of his own.

Hueningkai thanked him with a quick bow of his head before scurrying up the staircase, no doubtedly to where Soobin was studying. Yeonjun continued on his way without looking back, wondering what it was about Hueningkai and Soobin that had been cursed together. He wondered if that was even a curse at all.

They were set to meet, but Yeonjun already knew that Soobin and Hueningkai would be late. He situated himself up the stairs, finding himself on the second floor to wait. Although it was cold, Yeonjun wasn’t bothered so much. Hearing the wind against the glass, though eerie in nature, was comfortable and familiar to Yeonjun. It whistled and howled, just like the singing winds did through the tunnels of Elysia.

Yeonjun could let himself daydream there on the second floor. Just like that evening where he’d read Soobin a story until he’d fallen asleep from his exhaustion, the memory was precious. Something itched in his lightning core, like he wanted to reach out and touch all of the decorations and strange markings in the library, but he kept his hands firmly to himself.

He’d caused enough trouble to Soobin already, by disappearing and testing their friendship instead of nurturing it like he should’ve. 

The massive doors opened, and Yeonjun saw both Soobin and Hueningkai waddling inside with their arms full of extra blankets and pillows. Hueningkai, spotting Yeonjun, spread out his wings behind him and hovered in the air, not without nudging Soobin’s pile so that it’d topple over before he managed to escape up to Yeonjun on the second floor.

“Hey! Get that brat back down here and make him help me,” Soobin called, barely audible over Yeonjun and Hueningkai’s laughter. 

Hueningkai had dumped all the blankets onto the nearest table when he’d stumbled onto the second floor, leaning on Yeonjun’s shoulder to catch himself from falling over from laughing at how fun it was to tease the arcane prince.

It was a bit of a culture shock, to see just how one conversation had made Hueningkai open up so much to Yeonjun. He wondered what it was that Soobin told Hueningkai about himself, for the feathered boy to be so easygoing and playful despite their status as near strangers.

“Ey, it wasn’t even that much, I carried most of the stuff!” Hueningkai laughed, and like a chain reaction, Yeonjun bubbled into a laugh too, still leaning against the railing as Hueningkai leaned against himself.

“Yeah, you have to keep on your toes! Soobinnie!” 

Despite the slip up with the nickname, Soobin gave an exaggerated whine, sending Yeonjun and Hueningkai into another fit of laughter as they watched Soobin stomp up one of the staircases, huffing with each step. 

“Sorry for being late,” Soobin sighed, automatically depositing everything in his arms onto one of the nearby desks. “ _ Someone _ was trying to sneak sweets from the kitchen past hours.”

“It’s not my fault. I’m a growing fairy, I need to get my nutrients.”

“Sweets don’t exactly count as nutrients,” Yeonjun cut in, watching as Hueningkai floundered for some good response, ultimately deciding it was better to toss himself at the blankets on the desk and bury his face in the plush pillows. 

Yeonjun had a lot to ask. 

What was it about their few extra days apart that had Soobin and Hueningkai behaving so amicably with him?

With the enchanted candles casting their ridiculously long shadows onto the floor, he couldn’t find it in himself to truly relax. Things were different than from when they were kids, and that was to be expected. Both he and Soobin had gone through a lot, it sounded like, even if Yeonjun didn’t disclose all the information of his disappearance to the other. He just didn’t want to disappoint Soobin any further, or make him worry.

And Hueningkai was a different spirit entirely. Yeonjun had definitely seen Hueningkai’s wings in the garden that first night. He held secrets just like the rest of them.

“So how was your day, Yeonjun hyung?”

Yeonjun blinked himself back into existence, turning to lean his back against the rail as he watched Soobin try and tug the blankets out from beneath the very unwilling Hueningkai. Even Yeonjun couldn’t help but smile. “It was nice. Despite the weather, there seems to be a lot of people out during the day. I bought some bracelets to take back with me.”

“That sounds- that sounds nice,” Soobin replied, not paying much attention to Yeonjun, with the fairy in front of him hindering his task. 

Yeonjun unfolded his arms, pointing a cheeky finger at Hueningkai and watched as the other’s bangs got blasted up by a little puff of wind. Hueningkai yelped, immediately letting up his weight from the blankets, making Soobin stumble back a little bit with the force of the pull. Soobin’s ears flushed red in a way that Yeonjun simply couldn’t ignore.

“I’m… I’m honestly really glad that there’s a big market still, even if it’s crazy cold outside,” Yeonjun confessed with a nervous laugh, grabbing one corner of the thick duvet to help Soobin roll it out onto the floor. He wasn’t well versed in terms of… slumber parties or sleepovers, but was excited to try and reconnect with Soobin.

“It’s not like they have much of a choice,” Soobin answered curtly. Though his words were sharp, he was gentle with the covers, smoothing them out onto the floor. 

Yeonjun opened and closed his mouth, for once feeling at a loss for words. “Hey. The winter is really more complicated than you think. Changing the weather isn’t easy, and there’s  _ still _ things about the cold that you don’t know.”

Soobin’s hands paused, and he cut Yeonjun with a sharp expression. “Then teach me.”

“I  _ can’t _ .”

“Then don’t tell me that I don’t know.” 

Yeonjun didn’t break his gaze away from Soobin’s. A flame licked in the color of his eyes, a teal like Yeonjun had never seen before. Where the aurora back at home was peaceful and sweet, the magic that wasn’t properly concealed in Soobin’s expression was dark and angry. He felt like his breath was caught in his throat, but Yeonjun kept his chin up, challenging the arcane prince with unspoken words.

Soobin looked exhausted. The darkness under his eyes and the anger in his soul were so loud to Yeonjun. He knew when it was the best time to back down.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that,” Yeonjun sighed after a long pause. “I’m sorry.”

Soobin didn’t want to speak much after that. “I need to grab another comforter, or our backs will suffer,” the prince had mumbled, standing up and heading down the staircase with an expressionless face.

Yeonjun let out a breath. Was it really up to him to argue with Soobin all the time? Sure, he had been a terrible friend to the prince, but he was trying hard to make amends and fix what had gone wrong. It was true that Soobin didn’t know the whole story. How could Yeonjun even begin to tell him though, if Soobin barely regarded him?

“He needed to hear it.”

Hueningkai sat one one of the tables that he’d pushed up against the windows to make space for their sleepover. 

“What?” Yeonjun blinked in confusion.

“Soobin hyung doesn’t like secrets,” Hueningkai explained with a sad shrug. “He needs to hear that they exist. If you don’t tell him… he’ll figure it out himself.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Yeonjun answered with a frown. “Seems like a running theme around here.”

The comment left an odd expression on Hueningkai’s face that Yeonjun couldn’t erase from his mind. 

When Soobin came back, he looked like he was feeling better already, but Yeonjun couldn’t be too sure. He tried to placate the situation, even if he was the one that had tipped the tension scale from opening his mouth earlier. They played a silly little game using jacks, and when that became boring, the three of them quizzed each other with word games. Laying on their backs and staring at the extensively decorated library, the tension steadily melted away.

Their chatter was peaceful, easy. They fell into soft laughs, melted against the big blankets and Yeonjun tenderly tucked in both Hueningkai and Soobin, leaning over to make sure the blanket could reach over Hueningkai’s large wings. The boy was sheepish about it, but Yeonjun reassured him with a smile that it was no big deal. “If the two of you share that blanket, I can have this one all to myself,” Yeonjun teased, not even trying to shield himself when both Soobin and Hueningkai hit his shoulder with a stray pillow.

Their conversation lulled into silence soon after that, and Yeonjun snuffed out the brightest enchanted candles with a little current of wind. When it passed by the pretty trinkets decorating the ceiling, they sang like quiet chimes.

Yeonjun could tell that Hueningkai hadn’t fallen asleep yet, hearing him toss and turn around on the opposite side of Soobin. His feathers made shuffling noises against the blankets. The three of them, huddled together on the second floor of the library, were sheltered from the cold seeping in from the glass walls. Now in their darkness, and with Soobin already fast asleep (it had only taken moments for Soobin to pass out completely), Yeonjun felt oddly… exposed.

He didn’t know that much about Hueningkai, who was more comfortable interacting with Yeonjun when Soobin was around. They had that much in common at least. Their story was an odd one, but Yeonjun could relate in a way that Soobin had saved them.

“Earlier, did you mean what you said?” 

He decided to sit up, no longer feeling sleepy with Hueningkai’s question hanging in the air between them. “What thing did I say?”

“The thing about there… being more than we thought going on.”

Yeonjun thought about the conversation he had with his father. He thought about the lightning that encapsulated Elysia and the sludge on the coast. He thought about the disappearance of the aurora behind the stormy skies, and even the mournful songs from the north.

“Yes. I meant it,” Yeonjun cautiously started. “But you were right… someone will tell him, or he’ll figure it out on his own.”

Hueningkai shrugged. “I think… he won’t wait. He’ll just try to do it on his own. I’m afraid of letting that happen.”

There was an uneasy silence again, despite the lengths that the three of them had gone to turn things back to normal. Yeonjun picked at a thread on the blankets, weighing Hueningkai’s words in his mind. The fairy was so mysterious to begin with, and Yeonjun didn’t want to make the other unwilling to speak again.

“Not everything is your responsibility or your fault,” Yeonjun reasoned, “but I have a feeling that him finding out my secrets isn’t what’s actually troubling you.”

Hueningkai sat up too, letting the blanket fall off his chest and pool on his lap. For a second, it looked as if the other wasn’t going to say a word, before he gave Yeonjun a questioning sort of look. Yeonjun simply gestured with a hand for the other to get on and speak already, but he’d learned patience was a virtue over the years. He could wait, if that was what Hueningkai needed. 

“Sometimes, I feel like I’m holding him back,” Hueningkai whispered. In the dark of the library, the glowing tiles on the ceiling looked like twinkling stars. Soobin was already fast asleep on his pillows and blankets, as if there wasn’t a single stress in the world, but Yeonjun knew better. He knew that the reason why Soobin fell asleep quickly was because he was overworked. It was apparent in the puffiness under his eyes, in the shadows that seemed to follow him and the weight that shoved his shoulders down, even when he tried to stand up straight. 

And it seemed as if Hueningkai acknowledged that too.

“Because of the curse thing?” Yeonjun asked, turning to face him.

“Kinda?” Despite the other’s youth, he looked like he’d lived for a million years. “We can’t be separated for too long, otherwise I start to get sick,” Hueningkai explained. “There’s not too much personal space we can have, and it’s dangerous if I decide to sneak out, or…. something. But I think… wouldn’t it get tiring, having someone around you all the time?”

That time, when Hueningkai turned to look at Yeonjun, he could see the pain clearly in his eyes. Yeonjun could feel the same burden that Hueningkai believed himself to be. When the other’s shoulders sagged and his feathers rustled against the floor, and it made Soobin move a little in his sleep, Yeonjun didn’t miss the way that Hueningkai winced.

“If it can’t be helped, then it can’t be helped,” Yeonjun tried to reason with a comforting ruffle to the other’s fringe. Hueningkai didn’t put up a fuss, instead looking between the now fast asleep Soobin and Yeonjun himself. “Soobin does sacrifice a lot, but that’s because of something he can’t control. If he thought of you as a burden… I think he would have made that clear. It’s obvious to me how much he cares about you.”

“He cares about you too, you know,” Hueningkai added. “He didn’t say your name or anything, but he talked about you a lot when he first saved me.”

So it was sometime right after Yeonjun had to pull away. 

He wanted to resent his half sister for forcing him out of his normal routine, or his parents for keeping that secret from him for such a long time. He wanted to resent Hueningkai, for replacing him as a precious friend in Soobin’s life. Yeonjun wished he didn’t think so lowly of himself either; he dreamed of those days of endless confidence and colorful flowers and sparkling magic again. 

He witnessed how close Hueningkai and Soobin were, and even though the circumstances were rather odd, it seemed like their relationship with each other was built genuinely. In a time that Soobin probably needed someone close nearby, Hueningkai was there, and in the time that Hueningkai needed a saving grace and to be cared for, Soobin was there. At least, that was aside from the whole curse thing.

And where was Yeonjun?

“He might act upset,” Hueningkai added again in a whisper, “but I don’t think he was ever truly mad. I’m really happy that you came back for him, Yeonjun hyung.”

Hueningkai was right. 

Although time had passed, his feelings for Soobin hadn’t died out. He cared for the younger prince as much as he cared for his whole nation. Yeonjun hadn’t been replaced really, and he knew that. Soobin’s heart was massive and thoughtful, and Hueningkai was a brilliant and strange little fairy that even Yeonjun couldn’t help but be fond about. 

Yeonjun had sacrificed his friendship to become a top-tier Elysian, and now that even the clouds listened to Yeonjun and his lightning core, it was time to return to color and brightness. He wouldn’t let Soobin be this exhausted or pained again, and he wouldn’t be the cause for the other’s hurt. He’d prove this to Soobin, and he’d prove this to Soobin’s new close friend, Hueningkai as well.

“I’m glad to be back,” Yeonjun confessed. “Some day, I’ll explain why I... left but, for now, let’s just be happy, right? And you, don’t go overthinking things either. If you need someone to talk to, you know hyung will listen to you.”

Although they’d started off as strangers, Yeonjun felt oddly responsible for Hueningkai. He wanted him to experience the same kind of happiness that any young person should. Yeonjun knew how difficult life could be, even though he was quite young himself, but something in the childish innocence of Hueningkai’s eyes but the old, old age of his soul had Yeonjun wanting to protect him from the world.

Maybe it was the way that they both looked to Soobin in concern that had linked the two of them. “For the record,” Yeonjun quietly added. The wind outside had quieted, as if it were gathered against the glass to listen to the Elysian prince as well. “Elysia also doesn’t know where this winter is coming from. I promise you,” Yeonjun murmured, watching the rise and fall of Soobin’s sleeping chest. He tenderly swept back Soobin’s hair from his eyes as Hueningkai watched with curious eyes. “I promise you, I’ll be the one to take care of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this chapter was a little too thick to digest, please leave a comment asking for a summary and I'll be glad to provide. Finally, the exposition is done. We can... finally get along with the plot :')

**Author's Note:**

> Updates will be somewhat slow as chapters are quite long, but please feel free to let me know if you had any concerns or questions. I'd love to hear about it! Follow me on twitter @soobimoroll


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